366 Drabbles
by profanitycat
Summary: Collection of 366 drabbles. Originally for every day of a leap year. 1-15; 31-45; 61-70: DM/HG. 16-30; 46-60: FW/HG. 71-73: HP/DM.
1. Drabble One: Open

**A/N: I'm doing a challenge! 366 Days of Drabbles to be specific, I'm hoping to get a chapter up every day. :D Many of the drabbles will be around 300-500 words.**

 **Word Count: 310**

 **Drabble One: Open**

"I need to tell you something." Draco said wearily. He ran a hand through his fine blonde hair. Any onlooker could see that his expression was strained, as if it pained him to accomplish whatever he was going to tell her.

"Yes?" Hermione asked expectantly. She nudged her bookmark between the pages of her new read, and carefully set it down on the table beside her.

He would do it, he thought to himself. Today is the day. No holding back.

"I like you." he blurted out quickly before he could stop himself. That was simple, more than he'd care to admit. Hermione blushed at his confession. She had known about his little crush since their first year at Hogwarts, though was surprised he had acted on it.

Hermione looked at him, smiled, and replied calmly, "I like you, too."

A look of surprise crossed Draco's face. He didn't expect that. What he had prepared himself for was rejection, perhaps something thrown at him, but not that she like him too.

"Really?" he questioned, still in disbelief. His eyes had widened like a small child whose mother offered them money to go buy candy.

"Really." she echoed back, getting up from the couch. Hermione crossed the fluffy black carpet to where Draco was standing nervously, wringing his hands. Rocking on the balls of his feet, he stared at her as she walked even closer until she stood right in front of him. Draco cleared his throat, looking down to properly see her eyes. Before Hermione's brain could talk her into seeing reason, she rose up on her toes and pressed a slight kiss on his cheek.

"I'm glad we're going out into the open with our feelings." she announced softly, pushing away a small strand of hair that had fallen over Draco's face.


	2. Drabble Two: Bond

**A/N: Back again! Hoping for daily drabbles here. :)**

 **Word Count: 307**

 **Drabble Two: Bond**

Hermione and Draco sat quietly on a squashy grey couch in front of a crackling, toasty fire. Tonight was a date night, a time to bond with each other, and tonight they had opted for a night in rather than a fancy restaurant outing. The two loved these nights together, when it was just the two of them, away and ignorant of the rest of the world. They lived in a soundless, carefree bubble together in their own little world. It was a wonderful place to be.

Snuggling was a favorite, no matter what occasion, and there was no exception for a chilly Friday night. Hermione carefully adjusted herself so that she was leaning into Draco's side with her legs lying along the length of the couch. Draco made himself comfortable into the armrest against a giant black pillow, stroking her hair and playing with stray curls. Oh how he loved those curls, those messy, hazel, untameable curls.

The brunette hummed softly, causing the blonde to wrap an arm around her shoulders. The best part about date night was the bonding that the two had when they spent time together. No matter what, they'd always make it for date night. Although it was hard, for Draco was running his family business which had piles of paperwork that had no end, and Hermione, headmistress at Hogwarts after Professor McGonagall had retired, they would make ends to do it. After all, it was one of the things that strengthened the bond between the married couple.

"Hey Draco?" Hermione asked tentatively, shifting herself on the couch to be more comfortable.

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"I know." he smirked, looking down at her fondly.

Hermione turned to stare up at him, a look of mock anger on her face.

"Hmph."

"I love you, too." Draco chuckled back to her.


	3. Drabble Three: Spell

**A/N: Hope you guys like this so far!**

 **Word Count: 409**

 **Drabble Three: Spell**

" _Anteoculatia_." a voice whispered into the dark bedroom with a flick of their wrist, and a dull blue jet of light erupted from their wand. With another flick, a small maroon (the color of Gryffindor) sticky note attached itself to the poor soul that had been the victim of her spell. The culprit grinned to herself and backed away from the doorway. She couldn't wait to see Draco's reaction in the morning. It would be priceless.

Apparating back to her flat, Hermione Granger had just pulled off a _prank_ on Draco Malfoy. Yes, pretty hard to believe. The naive bookworm from Hogwarts was gone, and it was hard to believe the young woman who had replaced her. Though there were similarities, Hermione had loosed up and was ready to have some fun in her life. That spell was going to do a number on Draco.

.o0o.

Draco's head felt weird when he woke up on Monday morning. He hated Mondays. That meant he had to have multiple meetings about his massive enterprise, and he had no intention of actually going to any of them. But alas, someone had to go, and his girlfriend wanted him to go. So there. He went.

But today didn't feel like the regular annoyance that Monday held for him. Draco shrugged it off, stretching out his arms behind his back and pulling on a sleek charcoal robe. He just couldn't put a finger on what was wrong. The twenty-four year old had no idea, and scratched his head. Or what was supposed to be his head. Instead of being met with his wonderfully soft, platinum blonde locks, he touched something hard, smooth, and surprisingly light.

Draco walked over to the mirror he kept in the bathroom. And what a shock it was that he saw when he looked in that golden framed mirror. Draco Malfoy had apparently sprouted _antlers_ overnight. Yes, _antlers_.

"Bloody hell." he muttered staring at himself. How was he going to explain this? He touched them experimentally. There was a rustle of parchment, and Draco saw a small square of sticky paper fall to the floor. He picked it up, careful to only touch it with his thumb and pointer finger. The note read:

 _Hope you like your new haircut, I've been wanting you to get one for a while._

That little message at the end ticked off who did this to him.

" _Granger!_ "


	4. Drabble Four: Enchant

**A/N: I lied. They're going to be between 250-750 words. xD**

 **Word Count: 670**

 **Gah, forgot the disclaimer. I don't own it.**

 **Drabble Four: Enchant**

"You'll love this." Draco promised, refusing to remove the blindfold from his girlfriend's eyes.

The brunette groaned. "Come on." Hermione pleaded.

"Not yet."

"Ugh." Hermione rolled her eyes under her blindfold. Like he could know how annoyed she was. Today was their five year anniversary of being a couple. They had decided to stay together as boyfriend and girlfriend as both of them agreed that twenty-six was a little too young to marry. Purebloods usually married right out of Hogwarts, yet neither of them wanted to do that yet. Even though Draco's parents desperately wanted a heir to ensure the Malfoy line would continue, they had decided to respect their son's decision to wait. After the war, it had been Draco to pull the name out from the dirt pile that it suffered under. But both of them were happy with their arrangement, and that was good enough for two of them.

"C'mon, we're almost there." he interrupted her thoughts, dragging, but leading her, to wherever he had planned to take her. Hermione felt the twigs and leaves crunch under her feet. At least she knew she was in nature.

"Alright." Draco said with a sort of finality. He stopped Hermione, wrapping his hands in her blindfold. Teasing her, he started the process of taking off the piece of cloth with a snail-like pace.

"Stop torturing me, _and let me see_!" Hermione half-begged, half-demanded.

Draco chuckled. "Fine."

He whipped off the annoying fabric, and let Hermione take it all in. The two were standing in a forest. Yes, a forest. Not just any forest. _A_ forest. Also known as _the_ forest that Hermione and Draco had their first date in. It was enchanting.

The former Slytherin had recreated their first date, where he had tried to enchant by bringing her to a beautifully decorated clearing in a forest. This forest, also known as Oak Crest, was just like what it was named: a couple square miles of oak trees, that overlooked the ocean from a jaw-dropping cliff if you ventured to the very edge of it. Barely anybody went in to the actual forest, but many onlookers hiked around the outside for the view of the ocean. That's why it was so special to the two because _their_ place lay undisturbed.

Fairy lights decorated the surrounding oak trees, strings of them seemed to float on the air glowing soft pastel colors. White, round paper lanterns hung from the trees themselves, decorated with protection and blessing runes. In the middle of the clearing, a polished, delicate white wood table stood in the middle of the clearing with comfortable iron wrought tables that matched sat. Delicacies and fine wine sat on the table, and the ground was littered with periwinkle colored petals. The entire place was the definition of elegant.

Hermione's jaw dropped. It was impressive the first time he did it, but a _second_ time? She walked forward, examining the scene again. It was almost exactly the same. Down to the type of wine, where the lanterns were placed, the location of the chairs: absolutely perfect. But this time, there was a small, lilac box on the table, tied with an soft orange ribbon. Hesitantly, she moved to stand in front of the table.

She turned to face her boyfriend, who was currently rubbing the back of his neck, blushing, and looking in any direction but her. He bit his lip, and finally looked at Hermione. Draco shrugged, looked up, and held his arms out.

The brunette lunged forward, grasping her boyfriend in a tight hug.

"It's beautiful." she gasped out, formerly unshed tears of joy falling silently from her eyes.

"You haven't even opened the present."

Hermione held the box in her hands, and slowly but decisively opened it.

Inside, was a beautifully crafted silver bracelet, with a sapphire on the middle of it.

"It's enchanting." Hermione whispered, cradling the box.

"You're enchanting."


	5. Drabble Five: The Great Hall

**A/N: Fifth day and going strong. :D**

 **Word Count: 435**

 **I don't own it. Seriously, I don't.**

 **Drabble Five: The Great Hall**

Hermione smirked at Draco. A _Malfoy_ worthy smirk. Narcissa would have been proud. The couple sat on the bed in the Head Girl's dormitories, Hermione cross-legged, hugging a pillow with the Gryffindor insignia on it, and Draco sitting up against the headboard. She leaned over from her position and poked him in the chest. He flinched, albeit barely. He scowled at her, but it soon turned into a half-smile.

"Haha." she teased him. "I wo-on. Now you need to keep up your end of the bet."

"Don't remind me." he groaned in response, covering his face with a pillow.

She grinned. "Too bad."

The blonde ran a hand through his hair, a habit that he had picked up at a young age whenever he was nervous, stressed, or annoyed.

He looked at her. "Do I have to?"

"Aww.." Hermione cooed sarcastically. "Is the wittle Dwaco Mawfoy afwaid of a wittle bet?"

"Of course not!" Draco protested, lightly shoving Hermione.

"I think you are." she taunted him, getting up from the bed and heading over to the door. She looked back. "At precisely, seven o'clock?"

"Yes."

.o0o.

"Listen up!" a voice echoed across the hall. The Great Hall stared at him. Rarely anybody made announcements from the Great Hall. Often when it happened, the cause was either a lost bet or a dare. It had also become a popular way of announcing a new couple, after Pansy Parkinson and Ron Weasley decided to tell the entire school that they had gotten together. Pansy had always had a flair for dramatics.

Draco stood in front of the enormous, towering double doors at the back of the hall. He sighed.

I hope I don't regret this, he thought. He muttered a Sonorus charm under his breath.

"I have something to tell to the entirety of the student body." he said. "The statement I am about to make is because I lost a bet."

The Slytherin took a deep breath.

"I am hopelessly, irrevocably, completely, whole-heartedly, utterly, intensely..." he looked at his arm, trying to read the scribbled handwriting there. "Um.. severely, terribly, immensely, over the moon in love with Hermione Jean Granger."

The crowd immediately broke out in to chaos. Cat calls, whispers, shouts of encouragement and disgust alike were heard. Draco walked calmly over to the table with maroon banners hanging over it, making a beeline to where Hermione sat. He plopped down beside her, glared at her and acted normal.

"Pass me the salt, Longbottom, will you?" he asked, as if nothing happened. Neville stared back dumbfounded.

"What?"


	6. Drabble Six: Awaken

**A/N: 'Tis me again! Sorry for any mistakes, typed this on my phone. Enjoy!**

 **Word Count: 273**

 **Drabble Six: Awaken**

Today was just a normal Saturday morning. If you call two kids plotting at six AM normal.

Sofie and Alex crept towards the master bedroom. Sofie, being the older of the two, turned around and put a finger to her lips, signaling to her seven year old brother to be quiet. Alex nodded in response, pretending to zip his lips.

"Good." Sophie whispered. "Mum and Dad are asleep."

She beckoned Alex in, not bothering to shut the door. They wouldn't mind anyway. The two siblings approached the stilled, white, duvet covers where two moving lumps lay intertwined. Alex and Sofie crawled on their hands and knees even closer, trying not to make a sound. They stood up silently, bending their knees slightly.

"On the count of three," Sophie mouthed to her brother. "One, two, three!"

The two children leapt on to the bed. Well, not really the bed. More like their sleeping parents.

"Agh!" two voices sounded in unison, covering the faces with their arms.

"Wakey-wakey, rise and shine!" Sofie and Alex chanted, stretching themselves across the bodies of Draco and Hermione. A bush of hazel hair emerged from under the covers.

"Oh, I don't think the tickle monster would like this." Hermione warned deviously. She looked over to where Draco had sat up on the bed. He winked at her. The thirty-three year olds lunged forward simultaneously, landing on the bodies of their children.

"Ah, no!" Sofie cried out, laughing as Hermione tickled her sides. "Anything but the tickle monster!"

"Nurrr!"

Hermione and Draco laughed. This wasn't such a bad way to wake up. Not at all.


	7. Drabble Seven: Mirror

**A/N: Double update today I guess, since I missed yesterdays. I had _no_ time, it's honor band weekend. :( Sorry guys.**

 **Word Count: 632**

 **Drabble Seven: Mirror**

The rain came down in buckets, thundering against the ceilings of the Hogwarts castle. It echoed throughout the halls, and lightning strikes were common. The flashes of blinding light flew through the castle, students flinching as it went away in the blink of an eye. To say today was dreary would be an understatement.

Hemione treaded quietly among the halls, feeling exactly how the weather was like. It had been a bad day, and wandering always calmed her nerves. After all, without the Marauder's Map, she didn't know where she was going. Not really, at least.

The fifth floor corridor was empty. The hallways were deserted with stale footprints littering the floor. Hermione peeked inside one of the rooms. Perfect.

Whenever wandering just simply wasn't enough, Hermione liked to sit and think. So that's what she did. The Head Girl shuffled in through the dusty doorway. Now that she was inside the room, she took the time to look around. The entire place was covered in dust, except for a ten-by-ten foot square that looked meticolously cleaned.

Probably some sort of housewive cleaning spell, Hermione thought. In the middle of that square sat a large piece of furniture, as she assumed, as it was covered by a white canvas cloth. Hermione tugged two ends of it, watching it fall to the floor with a quiet swish.

It was beautiful, to say the least. A huge ornate, full length, gold mirror with the inscription _Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi_ running across the top of it. It almost looked like an arch, with glass in place of where one would walk underneath it. In awe, the brunette stared at it, the canvas cloth still clutched in her hands. She slowly lowered her vision to the mirror. She was standing there. Holding hands with Draco Malfoy. The two of them smiled back at her, waving at her.

Hermione fell to her knees, staring at the mirror as her reflection kept waving at her. She turned her head to glance behind her. No one was there. And yet, what could this be? The idea hit her suddenly: this was the Mirror of Erised. It showed your heart's true desire, as the inscription read _I show not your face but your heart's desire_ backwards. Did she really long to be with Draco Malfoy? She stared at herself, looking happy and carefree. It had been a long time since Hermione had been happy. She couldn't remember the last time she had displayed a real smile on her face, rather than the forced ones she wore around her friends. Everyone around her worried, and yet, she was the one who always was expected to reassure them, to tell them that it was going to be okay. But she wasn't okay. Nightmares terrorized her dreams, causing her more often than not to wake up in a cold sweat, screaming. Hermione made it routine to cast silencing charms around her bed drapes because of them. Every step in the rebuilt castle reminded her of the war and who their side had lost.

Draco was the one to that came closest to making her happy. They had become good friends after the war, and enjoyed each other's company on an intellectual level and each other's personalities. Her fake smiles almost came close to real ones. Almost.

But if her heart's desire was to be with Draco... it just wouldn't work. He would never look at her that way. Hermione knew that she harbored a crush on the handsome blonde, but never at this level.

But the heart wants what it wants. And when she saw herself and him in the mirror, she accepted it.


	8. Drabble Eight: Hidden

**A/N: A bit of a shorter drabble today.**

 **Word Count: 393**

 **Drabble Eight: Hidden**

"Where is it?"

Hermione grinned and pretended to zip her lips. "Not telling."

Draco groaned. "Tell me." he put his hands on her shoulders. " _Tell me._ "

"Nope!" she wiggled out of his grip, releasing his hold on her and scrambled to run in the other direction. She looked behind her as she ran, sticking her tongue out, putting her hands on either side of her head and wiggling them teasingly.

The blonde smirked. "You're not getting away that easily," he began, starting to sprint in the direction that she was in. Hermione had already turned the corner of the Head corridor. Draco had lost her for the moment.

Damnit, he thought. I'm never going to get that back.

Hermione huddled in the fourth floor closet next to the girl's bathroom. In her hands she clutched the precious object that Draco was chasing after. With a wave of her wand she Disillusioned herself as she peeked out the hidden crack in the door. She saw Draco run into her field of view, examining the area with a knowing eye. Hermione shifted a bit as he turned to look at the closet. Something moved from it spot due to her movement, causing it to fall very suddenly. It crashed on to Hermione's foot, and she gasped before she could stop herself. Draco turned to look at the closet.

He immediately strode forward to investigate, opening the closet with a soft _Alohomora_. Draco poked around when he finally cam in contact with Hermione's cheek.

"Heheh." she said, giggling nervously as he made her visible again. He looked down at her hands.

"So, you _do_ have it."

Hermione scratched the back of her neck. "Yup." she smirked. "You're still not gonna get it back."

The Head Boy lunged forward to grab what was in Hermione's hands- and it was gone. Draco displayed a look of confusion. Where was it?

"Ha-ha!" the Gryffindor taunted, showing Draco that it was only an illusion.

"Damn it, Granger!" he shouted.

She pouted, and said, "You know, since we _are_ boyfriend and girlfriend, I thought we'd be past the last name stage by now, _Malfoy_."

He sighed.

"Just tell me where it is," he said with an air of defeat.

"Wow." Hermione wondered aloud. "You must really like that stuffed ferret I hid."


	9. Drabble Nine: Together

**A/N: Ahh, I hate that I have to put an author's note to make sure the title lines up. :(**

 **Word Count: 301**

 **Drabble Nine: Together**

"Come on, Mione. We _can_ do this, if that's what you want." Draco coaxed.

"No, we can't. It'd be... it'd be wrong to do it."

"But we _can_. I'm telling you. We. _C_ _an_."

Hermione turned to look at him. "But we shouldn't."

"At least we'd be together."

"We can't just leave!" she blurted out. She turned and started pacing the Head dorms. Draco could practically hear the gears in her mind turning, weighing the pros and cons of their situation. She suddenly stopped in her tracks. Hermione looked at Draco sharply.

"You know, it'd be selfish." she whispered, hugging herself tightly.

The blonde moved forward. "At least we'd be _together_." he repeated, stressing the last word with as much feeling as he could muster.

"Are you sure about this?"

He nodded solemnly. "Everything is set."

"Let me think." Hermione ran a hand through her curls, thumbing a stray strand absentmindedly. "We're together now, aren't we?"

"Yeah, but-"

"No 'buts'." the brunette interrupted. "If being together is all that matters, then we'll stay here. "We're together. Nothing is going to change that."

"But what if we die?" Draco demanded. "What if _you_ die? What if you get caught?"

"Enough with the what-ifs!" she declared.

Silent, the two stared at each other. They grasped one another in a hug, filled with unsaid, albeit needed emotion. They longed for the other's touch, holding on as if they let go, then the other would disappear. The raw, unfiltered love that transferred between the two was unrivaled, as they just needed each other.

"I'm right here." Hermione murmured into his shoulder with reassurance laced into her voice.

"I know."

"We're together."

"We're together." Draco echoed softly.


	10. Drabble Ten: Filthy

**A/N: Hi! If you'd be so kind to leave a review, that'd be awesome!**

 **Word Count: 379**

 **Drabble Ten: Filthy**

Draco tromped home from the Quidditch pitch coated inside and out with mud. With his old Firebolt in hand, a smile on his face, and wind in his hair, he decided that it was in fact, a good day. Although muddy water from the game soaked him through to the bone, he was happy.

Treading into the house, Draco dumped his gear and uniform in the shed outside, that Hermione insisted on having next to their home. He threw open the door and collapsed on the couch in the living room.

"Hey, Draco!" Hermoine called, bustling around the kitchen before spotting him. On _the couch_. The _white_ couch.

"Draco!" she nearly shrieked. He looked up at her obliviously. "You're filthy! You're staining the couch."

He shrugged. "Oops?" he offered, obviously not regretting what he did.

"Oh, you're going to get it." she threatened playfully, levitating him off the couch and throwing him into the yard where he landed with a loud thump. The brunette faintly heard him groan before she decided to ignore him for the time being. She slammed the door shut, _Scroungify_ -ed the couch, and followed him outside.

Draco lay on the grass, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "So you're resorting to throwing me out of the house." he remarked sarcastically. "How nice."

" _Oops_." Hermione mocked, shrugging her own shoulders in an innocent manner, as if she didn't do anything of fault.

Draco grinned. "Oh, you _better_ say you're sorry."

"Nope." she smirked mischievously. Draco leaped up from his position on the floor and circled her slowly, as if analyzing her. He crept forward and tackled her to the muddy ground of their backyard. He stared at her, trapping her under his body weight and grabbing on to her shoulders so she couldn't move. She snorted, daring him to go on.

"Last chance." he warned, teasingly blowing a strand of hair off her forehead.

"I'll never give in!" she declared defiantly, a glint in her eyes.

"Are you sure?"

"Make me." she dared.

"You asked for it." Draco rolled the two over in the mud repeatedly, falling down the sloped grassy area and covering the two head-to-toe in mud.

"Aw..." Hermione whined. "Now we're both filthy."


	11. Drabble Eleven: Curiosity

**A/N: Going strong. I think.**

 **Word Count: 541**

 **Drabble Eleven: Curiosity**

Draco wandered the halls of the manor. At eight years old, the heightened ceilings towered above the boy in intricate, ornate designs. Suffice to say, Narcissa had good taste. The little boy peeked around the corner of the East Wing's main hallway.

Good, he thought, when he saw the coast was clear. No one will see me leave. He dashed to the set of double french-styled doors, heaving one heavy white door open, and escaping outside. He scoured the tall grass tear the back of the courtyard. There was a brown, polished stick lying there in the grass. Draco picked up the broomstick he had nicked from the shed. Jumping on, he kicked off, sending him flying into the clear morning sky.

Flying was something that Draco Malfoy loved. The feeling, the elation of soaring, almost hovering on air: it was indescribable. One of the reasons that he loved it so was being able to travel almost anyway imaginable. That 'anywhere' at the moment was a forest on the border of Malfoy Manor grounds and a small Muggle village. He frequented the forest often, and liked to watch the Muggles. His curiosity with them was immense, and the boy wondered how they survived without magic.

There was one house in particular he like watching, and it was a two story, pale white house. A girl lived there, and she looked the same age he was. Draco thought that she was pretty, even if she was a Muggle. He secretly hoped she was a witch, and had suspicions that she was. The other day, he saw her levitate a stuffed dragon.

Perhaps, he thought. It may have only been wishful thinking. Who knows what the Muggles can do?

At the moment, he sat in his tree. It was a large oak tree, and he had carved his initials in a branch that he liked to sit on. It was pretty hidden, only visible from a small area in the "Granger"'s backyard. He had heard another small child address the mother of the girl as "Mrs. Granger", and therefore called the girl Granger, for lack of a different name.

He'd never actually talked to the girl, but he felt like they were best friends. Draco watched a small head of bushy brown hair appear from the house. He shifted a bit to get a better look. The branch snapped. And with that, the blonde tumbled to the forest floor.

"Ah... bloody... buggering..." he rubbed the back of his head, which was smarting pretty badly. He groaned, muttering things like, "Stupid branch," "My father's going to hear about this," and after a moment, "Oh wait, never mind." Because if Lucius Malfoy ever found out that Draco was Muggle watching (and actually _enjoyed_ it), he would probably be disowned.

He looked up. Granger was standing over him, a curious look on her face.

"Are you alright?" she asked, seeming genuinely concerned for his well-being.

"Fine?" His statement came out more like a question. But then again, he wasn't really sure of anything. Draco didn't know-couldn't have known-that the two would eventually be best friends.

All because of a Muggle-born, perfectly normal, curiosity.


	12. Drabble Twelve: Diagon Alley

**A/N: Welcome back! I mean, thanks for still reading my story xD**

 **Word Count: 475**

 **Drabble Twelve: Diagon Alley**

"C'mon, Mione!" Harry called from outside the bookstore.

"Just a minute, Harry!" she replied back, skimming her fingers along the familiar titles and authors. Of course, both Harry and Ron knew that when Hermione said one minute in Flourish and Blotts, she meant an hour if no one stopped her. The boys were the same though, since they would spend hours milling around Quality Quidditch Supplies, so they couldn't really judge her.

Hermione loved Diagon Alley. Not just because it was a wonderful place, but because it was literally _alive_ with magic. But of all the shops, it was the bookstore she loved most. The smell of old and new books alike were familiar and comforting. She devoured the knowledge it shared, and often spent hours there, just reading and getting lost in magical worlds with lovable characters.

She was going to look for her favorite book (again). Heading over to the "A" section, she spotted _Pride and Prejudice_ on the shelves she treasured.

"That's a good book." a head of blonde next to her said. She turned, and found herself face-to-face with Draco Malfoy.

"You think so?" Hermione conversed politely. "It's one of my favorites."

"Yup." his tone was short, clipped, but extremely clear. Hermione shifted on her feet. Her fellow sixth year didn't seem all that bad. Now that she thought about it, the last time he had called her that foul, foul word was in third year. In fact, after fourth year, he had been nothing but civil. They weren't good buddies or anything, but had worked together on multiple projects throughout the year. Unbeknownst to the rest of the 'Golden Trio', as they had been dubbed, Hermione often talked with Draco because he was an intellectual like her, and could hold a decent conversation that wasn't about Quidditch or how they needed help with their homework.

"How are you doing?" Draco asked.

"Fine, I guess. And you?"

"Fine."

The two went back to book browsing. Hermione silently picked a book off the shelf and handed it to Draco. He nodded, showing that he appreciated the gesture.

Hermione left the bookstore, clutching a large, black leather book and heavy thoughts. When she had seen Draco, her innards had felt weird, and she had started tingling all over. It was like her heart was panting after running a marathon, her legs had turned to jelly, and her head felt like it was floating in the clouds where every thought evaporated as quickly as it came. But what was it? That feeling, as if walking on air, carefree.

"Hakuna Matata. It means no worries..." Hermione hummed as the Disney song erupted from her without a thought. For one of the only times in her life, Hermione was confused.

All because of a visit to Diagon Alley.


	13. Drabble Thirteen: Shatter

**A/N: Woo! I actually have something meaningful to put here! Thanks for my awesome friend NerdyDancerPerson for beta reading this, go check out her story** ** _Identity_** **. :)**

 **Word Count: 440**

 **Drabble Thirteen: Shatter**

"I know you want to, Drakie." Pansy cooed, touching his face tentatively. "I know you want _me_." She winked 'seductively', or what she thought was seductive, at Draco who scowled in response.

"I have a girlfriend. And you know that Pans." he said, trying to let her down as gently as he could. "I'll never like you."

Pansy growled. "I'll make you." She grabbed his face again, and shoved him toward her. She pressed her foul lips against his. Draco tried to pull away, but Pansy had _Incarceroused_ his legs, tying them to the desk. A faint gasp was heard by the couple. A thud. Slow, hesitant footsteps that faded out quickly were heard, and then the quick pace of rhythmic running.

And above Pansy's head, Draco could see a distinguishable head of curly, brown hair that belonged to none other than Hermione Granger: his girlfriend.

Shite.

.o0o.

Hermione walked the familiar route to the Transfiguration classroom. She was supposed to meet Draco there for some sort of surprise he had planned. She skipped down the moving staircase, finding the hallway.

She didn't notice the two sets of footsteps in the dust. She didn't hear soft cries of protest emitted from the classroom. She didn't recognize the irregular thumping of someone struggling against their will. She didn't see the look of shock on one of the faces. She didn't see the look of triumph opposite it. She didn't see the ropes. And she most definitely didn't see the black, velvet ring box tucked into the front pocket of his jeans.

She didn't see any of it. All she saw, heard, _felt_ was her heart, shattering. It broke like a rose window, glittering with different colors that looked the same in the end: broken. Shattered. Normally, a single person couldn't have affected her this much, but this was him. The one person she knew she could trust more than anything.

She realized in that moment, that her love had been given in vain. An anonymous person once said, "I trusted you, but now your words mean nothing to me because your actions speak the truth." She thought that person was wise behond their years, but she had never realized how true those words were.

She knew it. She never should have trust anyone with the fragile object she carried that now lie shattered on the floor. Because she should have learned that if you give your heart to someone, make sure that they give you theirs. Or else, the remains of your broken heart will stay that way. Shattered.


	14. Drabble Fourteen: Silly

**A/N: Bit of a shorter one today. Inspired by Persephone-Granger's story _Pinapple, Yum! Or, oh, Coconut!_ , go check that out.**

 **Word Count: 208**

 **Drabble Fourteen: Silly**

Hermione slipped a green Lifesaver into her mouth, her tongue playing with it sucking out the flavor. She wandered the halls of Hogwarts on a lazy Saturday, greeting people as she passed them. For some unfathomable reason, people kept staring at her. Or more specifically, her mouth. She wasn't sure what was attracting all the attention, she was just enjoying eating some Muggle candy. The Gryffindor finally admitted she knew something was up when Draco Malfoy approached.

He strode towards her, pushing her up against the wall, her mouth frozen and her eyes wide.

"You've been teasing me, Granger." he said.

"Oh, really?" she asked innocently, putting her tongue back into motion, sucking on the Lifesaver.

Draco growled predatorily. "Yes, you have."

She looked at her boyfriend with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure." Draco swept in for a kiss, taking her aback. He seized the Lifesaver from her mouth and transferred it to his. He sucked on it with a resounding pop.

"Hey!" Hermione protested the stealing of her candy.

Draco smirked. "Too bad." he released his holding on her to the wall. "You're not a Slytherin."

"But I'm dating one." she replied cheekily, kissing him again.


	15. Drabble Fifteen: Crush

**A/N: Gah! Love this prompt. :D**

 **Word Count: 416**

 **Drabble Fifteen: Crush**

Draco Malfoy was distracted. His potions essay lay in front of him, his quill eloquently poised, as if ready to write. But the pale hand belonging to one blonde Slytherin did not move from it's position. His brow was wrinkled in confusion, but to any onlooker, they'd think he was thinking hard. The onlooker would be correct, but he wasn't thinking about his potions essay. Oh, no. He _definitely_ wasn't thinking about his potions essay, because that foot long parchment on Amortentia did not, in fact, have wavy brown hair, eyes the color of molten chocolate, and a marvelously intelligent mind. Yup. Draco was distractedHe shared all his classes with her, had to split Head Girl and Head Boy duties with her. It was pure torture.

Seeing her, fantasizing about her- it never ended. Whenever she was within his sight, he stared at her. Whenever she wasn't, he was thinking about her. Sometimes, he would look at her and think about her, distracting himself all the while.

You could call it an infatuation. Or perhaps, a crush.

.o0o.

Hermione Granger wasn't one to fall head over heels for a boy. But, she was nonetheless distracted by one. Oh, but that was normal, having Harry and Ron as best friends. She mostly hung out with them anyway, but it wasn't either of them that was distracting her. In fact, it had been a while since either of them had _really_ distracted her, since she had become practically immune to them in the past seven years. A pale head of blonde was what her thoughts, daydreams, and regular dreams consisted of. A wonderful smile if true, a sharp wit that rivaled hers, and moonlit silver eyes that seemed to gaze into your soul and say, " _Notice me!_ " It was hard enough having to do Head duties with him. She couldn't stand the tension between them when the two were in their shared common room together. It had taken all of her willpower every single day to not go over and confess her feelings. She liked him.

The torture never ended with the constant presence of _him_ around her. She stared at him, when he wasn't staring at her. Somehow in the year they had developed emotions other than hate toward each other, they'd always manage to miss each others line of sight when the other stared at them.

You could call it a fascination. Or perhaps, a crush.


	16. Drabble Sixteen: Genius

**A/N: Switching gears here. :D Well, I suppose I should list pairings.**

 **Word Count: 453**

 **Drabble Sixteen: Genius**

Hermione grunted in frustration. Her potion just didn't want to cooperate. She grudgingly dumped the light blue contents of the large brass cauldron into the sink of the back room, removed her safety goggles, and hung up the protective coat she wore when she experimented. She ran her hands through her no longer frizzy hazel curls, a habit she had picked up after she had started working with the twins.

After the war, the twins had a grand re-opening for their shop, bringing it back to it's former glory and beyond. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depends on which way you think about it, Fred and George needed extra help around the shop. They were so busy nowadays with orders and such that the two of them were no longer enough to keep the shop running by itself, as well as come up with new ideas. Coincidentally, Hermione was looking for a new living space and a break from her stress inducing Ministry job. Forge and Gred just happened to have an extra guest room. It was perfect.

Besides, Fred had said that it was good for their practical jokes to have a brilliant witch on their side rather than against them. Although Hermione still didn't _love_ their pranks, she'd admit that the both of them were brilliant, especially in Charms, Transfiguration, and Potions. Sometimes she had to chide herself against thinking that the twins could have done better on their N.E.W.T.s if they had applied themselves. Then again, they probably wouldn't try- they loved their practical jokes, and Hermione was going to leave it that way.

Sighing, Hermione started her twenty-third batch of potion. She just couldn't get the color that she wanted! Every time, she had gotten light blue, when she wanted a sky blue. There's a difference, you know. The twenty-one year old repeated the process of adding the ingredients to the cauldron. Two horned slugs, three tablespoons of asphodel... She stirred the potion sixteen times counterclockwise at a simmering temperature. The potion was still light blue.

"Argh!" Hermione groaned, watching the liquid slowly settle. She felt hands on her back.

Familiar, calloused, hands. "Try adding a pinch of holly and a sprig of dittany." She dutifully added the ingredients, leaning back into the comfort of her chair. And sure enough, the potion turned the sky blue she had been shooting for.

The brunette turned around in her seat, staring at the freckled face with a thankful smile.

"You're a genius, Fred." Hermione wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

"Why thank you, kind missus." he grinned cheekily against her mouth.


	17. Drabble Seventeen: Craving

**A/N: I hope the lack of reviews means I'm doing something right.**

 **Word Count: 266**

 **Drabble Seventeen: Craving**

"Where is it?" Fred muttered, rummaging around the cabinets, occasionally setting stuff out on the counter.

There was a crash. "Hey!" Hermione yelped, who had avoided being narrowly missed by the flying projectile.

Fred grinned apologetically, "Sorry, love."

Hermione hopped up on to the counter, resting her hands on either side of her legs. "Whatcha looking for?" she asked.

"Just those really nice white chocolates. You know, the _Lindt_ ones? They're bloody amazing!" he drifted off for a moment, imaging the delicious item of affection. "I've developed a craving for them recently.

"Really?" Hermione tried to stifle a chuckle that threatened to erupt. She hoped he didn't notice. He did. After all, endless years of pranking had really payed off. The Weasley whipped around and glared at her.

"Where. Are. They." he ground out, pinning her to the cold, white-tiled counter. The brunette giggled nervously, pretending to zip her lips. He pressed his lips together. Fred frowned, but soon a familiar mischievous smile emerged.

Oh, no, Hermione thought. She knew whatever happened next would _not_ be good.

"You're gonna get it." Fred rested his hands on either side of her stomach, wiggling his fingers.

"Ah, stop!" she shrieked through peals of laughter.

"Not until you tell me where they are!" he promised, tickling her with renewed rigor.

"Fine!" she shouted, giggling. "Fine! Fine, fine, fine!"

He stopped the torture momentarily. Hermione took a huge gulp of air, and slowly returned her breathing to normal. She took a deep breath, then looked him straight in the eye.

"I. Ate. Them." she grinned.


	18. Drabble Eighteen: Tall

**A/N: Was going to make it longer, but decided not to.**

 **Word Count: 153**

 **Drabble Eighteen: Tall**

"Get off me, Fred." Hermione batted away his arm, which currently rested on top of her head. He grinned cheekily down at her, ruffling her curls affectionately.

"S'not my fault you're so short." he teased, bopping her on the nose with his other hand. He didn't move his arm.

She shoved his arm off, scowling halfheartedly.

She sighed. "Why are you so _tall_?" she whined. It was a well-known fact that Hermione hated being short. After all, all her friends were taller than her and liked to tease her about it.

"'Cause." he placed his arm on her head, which Hermione promptly glared at him. She rolled her eyes, but walked over to the fluffy brown couch and plopped down.

"Hmph."

Fred laughed, and sat down beside her, resting his arm right back on her head like it never moved.

"I hate you, Fred." the hazel-eyed witch said.

"I love you, too, darling."


	19. Drabble Nineteen: Dare

**A/N: Ah, this update was late. :(**

 **Word Count: 302**

 **Drabble Nineteen: Dare**

Ginny flipped the sickle over her knuckles, transferring it from either side of her hand.

"I'm bored." she proclaimed suddenly. Hermione looked at her and made a 'duh' noise. Ginny hit her bed lightly, her face contorted, racking her mind for ideas of entertaining the two.

"Let's play Truth or Dare!" she said, grinning.

Hermione shrugged. "We need more people. It's not fun with just the two of us. Besides, we already know a lot about each other."

"Good thing I have a house full of brothers."

The girls mirrored grins at each other mischievously.

.oOo.

"Okay, so everyone knows the rules?" Ginny asked.

"Right!" six voices chorused back.

The group of seven sat in a circle im the living room of the Burrow. Luna, Ginny, and Hermione sat on the right side and Ron, Harry, Fred, and George sat on the left opposite the girls.

"You go first, Hermione."

"Uh, sure." she said uneasily. She looked at Harry.

"Truth or Dare?"

"Dare?"

.oOo.

"Fred, Truth or Dare?"

Fred scoffed in a playful manner, "Dare, I'm a Gryffindor."

George grinned evilly.

"I dare you to snog 'Mione."

Fred gasped. "George!" he glared knives at his smirking twin.

"You heard me. Snog. 'Mione." George enunciated, "You _did_ say you were a Gryffindor, Are you suddenly a Hufflepuff?"

He gulped. Turning in the direction of where Hermione sat, he looked at her nervously, He tentatively scooted forward. She blushed, and scooted towards him.

"So do we just kiss?"

"Yup."

"This isn't awkward at all."

"Nope.

The two leaned in and—

"Agh!" twin cries of anguish sounded, The couple had bonked noses with each other, The other members of the circle snickered.

Fred scratched the back of his neck. "Do you want to try again?"

He didn't get an answer. Hermione was already kissing him.


	20. Drabble Twenty: Buzz

**A/N: AHHH! Day 20! :D**

 **Word Count: 357**

 **Drabble 20: Buzz**

"What is that horrendous buzzing noise?" Fred nearly shouted, cupping his hands over his ears. That only seemed to make it worse. He removed his hands, sighing heavily. That insufferable noise, that stupid, loud, constant buzzing noise.

It has to be a prank, he thought. There was no way there was an actual buzzing noise. When it had started, he had asked George if he heard it. His twin had looked at him weird, shrugged, and continued working on the Cheesy Chocolates. The new creations would cause the consumer to spout cheesy pick-up lines. Great for those wanting to charm a girl or guy who was to shy to do it themselves, but had side effects that the twins were trying to work out with the help of Hermione.

The buzzing worsened. And then- it stopped. He checked his watch. It had lasted exactly six hours. Impressive. Fred thought back to what he was doing six hours ago.

 _"There's bacon and sausage on the counter." Hermione shouted from the bottom of the stairs._

 _"'Kay!" Fred yelled back, seeing the scrumptious items sitting delicately in the kitchen. He grabbed the plate of them and headed down to the workshop. He had ignored it at first, thinking it only to be some machine. But it didn't go away._

"Hermione." he growled. She was the reason he had to work with this annoying noise for the entire work day. Whenever he had tried to lessen it, block it out, make it more bearable, it only made it more annoying. Genius.

He laughed in light of the situation. Then, Hermione walked in the door.

"Hey, Freddie." she said, hugging him and placing a peck on his cheek. She let go of him, but stood next to him.

Fred smirked. "You sneaky little witch."

Her mouth formed into a little 'o', but then she grinned.

"So you figured it out."

"Yup."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Are you mad at me?"

"I don't know..." he teased, pretending to think about it.

"Please?" she pleaded mockingly, stifling laughter.

"Sure."

"Did it work?"

He groaned. "That stupid buzzing noise lasted _six_. _Hours_. Six. _Hours._ Hermione!"


	21. Drabble Twenty-One: Patronus Charm

**A/N: SO SO SORRY GUYS. Okay, really busy this weekend, I'll give you an overview. Saturday: Swim meet, orchestra, Chinese school event. Sunday: Swim meet, Chinese School, packing and driving (two HOURS) to Pasadena. Monday: Spent the entire day in Pasadena, toured the Jet Propulsion Laboratory (AWESOME!), drove back home. No time to write, sorry.**

 **Word Count: 326**

 **Drabble Twenty-One: Patronus Charm**

"Why haven't you tried to cast a _Patronus_ Charm yet?" Hermione pestered, following Fred as he entered his bedroom.

"Never needed to." he replied, barreling on to his plaid blanket that lay rumpled on his light blue sheets. Hermione hopped on the bed beside him, landing with a soft thud as the mattress sunk down to adjust to the couple's weight.

"Do you even know what your Patronus is?"

"Nope." Fred quirked, folding his hands behind his head, staring up at the blank, white-washed ceiling.

"Seriously?" Hermione asked in disbelief. She sat up from her position to sit cross-legged next to him.

"Freddieously." he grinned at her as she playfully shoved his shoulder.

She shook her head. "You insufferable git, you."

"You love me."

"I do." she smirked. "And that's why you're going to learn how to cast a Patronus."

"Huh?"

.oOo.

Fred groaned. "We've been going at this for an hour, Mi. Let. It. Be."

"It shouldn't be too hard, you're pretty good at Charms." the brunette frowned. Over the course of a Tuesday afternoon, Fred had managed to shoot small wisps of white, shimmery smoke. The trails of light grew bigger, but hadn't been able to evolve into a full fledged Patronus yet. That stumped Hermione. Was he even trying?

Fred shot another white wisp that finally began to take shape. He grinned, reliving the memory. So apparently, his corporeal Patronus was a fox. It pranced around his head, nuzzling his cheek before disappearing.

"Wow." he breathed, in awe of it.

"What memory did you think of?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Our first date." he said. "Bloody hell Mi, this is incredible!"

Fred cast the charm again and Hermione cast hers. The otter and fox tumbled around with each other, the fox finally crowing in triumph after landing on top of her otter.

"Haha, my Patronus is better than yours." he teased.

"Oh, shut up."


	22. Drabble Twenty-Two: Cute

**A/N: Again, REALLY REALLY SORRY. Super busy.**

 **Word Count: 246**

 **Drabble Twenty-Two: Cute**

Hermione scurried down the steps of the flat above Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and headed for the back room. She waved to George as she went by, covering the shift at the moment, who gave her a mock salute in return. The brunette broke in to a run, leaping and clearing the stairs before she resumed running. Dashing over, she slid into the stool next to Fred, causing it to spin with the momentum that it carried from her bounding over. She ruffled his hair playfully and rested her head on her hands.

"Hi." she said breathlessly, pulling back her curls from her face.

"Hi there, Missus Energetic." he responded, not looking up from what he was working on. "What's gotten into you?"

"Nothing." she singsonged, ruffling his hair again. "Just thinking about how cute you are."

That made Fred look up from his tinkering, "Weasley's are not cute." he proclaimed, sticking his tongue out at her. Hermione grinned.

"Aw, who's a cute little Freddy?" she spoke, squishing his cheeks. He wormed away from her grip, swatting her hands.

"I am _not_ cute." he protested. "I am handsome, a genius, someone with incredibly humorous traits, but I am not cute."

"Oh yes, you are."

Fred groaned. "I am _not_ cute."

"Denial is the first stage." she teased, bopping his nose before scrambling out of the room.

"You're going to pay for that!" Fred called after her, setting his work down and chasing after her.

"Not a chance!"


	23. Drabble Twenty-Three: Hush

**A/N: Not my best today.**

 **Word Count: 306**

 **Drabble Twenty-Three: Hush**

The godmother of Lily Potter watched as her boyfriend told the last words of the story, "And they lived happily. Ever. After." Hermione could hear the sound of the heavy story book closing softly and being set on the nightside table. She peeked in, and Fred waved at her silently. Hermione walked over, placing her hands on his shoulders and leaning into his back.

"Hello." she whispered.

"Hi." he whispered back, the couple looking at the girl that they were babysitting for the weekend.

The little girl's eyes opened briefly. "Can you sing me a lullaby?" she asked sleepily, rubbing her eyes.

"Sure." Hermione looked at Fred, who motioned for her to sing. She took a deep breath, and smiled at Lily.

" _Hush little baby, don't say a word. Mione's gonna buy you a , little baby._

 _And if that mocking bird won't sing, Mione's going to buy you a diamond ring._

 _If that diamond ring turns brass, Mione's going to buy you a looking glass._

 _If that looking glass gets broke, Mione's going to buy you a billy goat._

 _If that billy goat won't pull, Mione's going to buy you a cart and bull._

 _If that cart and bull turns over, Mione's going to buy a dog named Rover._

 _If that dog named Rover won't bark, Mione's going to buy you a horse and cart._

 _If that horse and cart falls down, You'll still be the sweetest one in town._ "

By the end of the song, sweet little Lily was fast asleep, and Hermione was resting her head on Fred's shoulder.

"What a sweet little child." Hermione commented, reaching for the light and tapping it twice to turn it off. The couple snuck out of the room silently, grinning at each other.


	24. Drabble Twenty-Four: Reality

**A/N: This one is a bit... off the prompt.**

 **Word Count: 555**

 **Drabble Twenty-Four: Reality**

Hermione sat cross-legged on her bed, her bed hangings drawn closed, and a small, brightly colored, orange box decorated with a "W" sign on top sat in front of her. The box wasn't all that special: it had the words _Patented Daydream Charms_ written in script across the sides, a little ribbon tying the top of the box together with the base, and had a small orange bow on top that occasionally flickered purple. On the bottom was a scene of the sky, displaying moving, fluffy white clouds traveling across the landscape. In the middle of it was an elegant description of the items. The items that happened to be in the box were _way_ more interesting than the box itself. And Hermione was fighting the urge to pop one of those delectable sweets into her mouth at this very moment.

She hesitantly opened the box. The swirly orange candies sat in neat rows on a regular candy tray, the white logo of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes on top. The brunette examined one. It couldn't hurt to try one, could it?

The spur of the moment pushed Hermione to put one in her mouth. She chewed it thoughtfully, the world distorting around her.

 _Huh, Hermione thought. The bed hadn't changed much. In fact, the only thing that_ did _change was the fact that her thoughts were now italicized. Just kidding. She opened her bed hangings, finding herself in a strange, but familiar room. She soon realized that it was Fred's. She'd been in this room often, after all, she hung out with Fred often over the summer. He was smart, although he preferred to show his smarts in his and his twin's genius pranks that they pulled, making concoctions and such._

 _She heard the door creak open, and there stood the man that she was just thinking about._

 _"Fred?" she asked, watching as he launched himself on to the bed in a fit of laughter._

 _"Hi, 'Mi!" he said, smiling up at her and lying his head on her lap._

 _"Hi, Fred." she relied awkwardly, not really knowing what to do with her hands._

 _He grinned at her. "Can I kiss you?"_

 _"Huh?"_

 _He frowned. "Can I come in?"_

 _"What?" Hermione was more confused than ever._

 _"Can I come in?"_

Two strong, firm hands shook Hermione out of her daydream. She shook her head violently, trying to clear her thoughts. The object of her imagination was now standing in front of her, looking curiously down at her befuddled look.

"Are you okay?" he questioned, a concerned look adorning his face. "You were staring off into space for a while, muttering.

"Uh, yeah." she said, her eyes inadvertently going to the opened box of _Patented Daydream Charms_. She hoped he didn't notice, but Fred had already drawn the conclusion.

He sputtered momentarily, running a hand through his hair, messing it up more than it already was. "Were you dreaming about _me?_ " he asked in disbelief.

She blushed.

He leaned forward and captured her lips in a slow and gentle kiss, not probing her for entrance or information. They relinquished each other's hold, though none too willingly.

"Was reality better?" he asked.

"Yes." she giggled, smiling at him. He smiled back at her, clasping her hand in his.


	25. Drabble Twenty-Five: Wishing

**A/N: Felt like writing something sad today. *shrug***

 **Word Count: 450**

 **Drabble Twenty-Five: Wishing**

On the banks of the lake of Hogwarts, lay a shattered soul underneath the large willow tree. The figure was hunched over, occasional sniffle erupting that would turn into wide-swept sobs. This person was wishing. Wishing, that their world wasn't crumbled to the ground, dead beyond belief. They had no reason to live. Because the only reason that they had was now gone. Their rock, their core, their other half of a beating heart: gone. Dead. They didn't believe it of course. Convincing themselves that their partner wasn't gone was easy: forgetting them was hard. A huge part of him had died.

Everywhere he looked, he found little parts of her scattered around, like little pieces of paper, thrown like confetti absentmindedly, not caring who saw it and who was going to clean it up. He cried over them, those broken pieces. The smell of vanilla and lavender coated her favorite armchair, that now became his that he slept in. Her books, organized in neat rows by author's last name, and the well-worn creases of the pages that carried her love of the objects of knowledge. The orderly way the flat was set up, for the most practical usage was tinted with the memory of them moving in and arguing over furniture. The classrooms at Hogwarts carried the touch of her love for learning. Her friend's memories were forever changed with her in it. She was brilliant, the heroine of a story, the person that people looked up to.

All of the pain was because of a stupid person, a stupid curse, a stupid wall, another stupid person, a stupid battle, and a love that overshadowed all of the stupid things. Hermione Jean Granger's life had been taken May 2nd, 1998 when a wall had been blown up. Fred was sure that he was going to die, as he saw the rubble of the wall collapsing down on him. But the moment of death never came, and instead of a wall, a body and a shield lay on top of him. He had turned to look up, and find a shield charm covering himself, and the porcelain, frigid face of Hermione Granger lying above it. She was too late. Funny, the one time that she messed up a spell, it had cost her her life.

It was dark out. Fred looked up to the sky on September 19th. Her birthday. A shooting star flew overhead, brightening the night sky in a blazing mess as it swam through the darkness and vanished with a wink.

"I wish," he spoke aloud. "-that Hermione Granger would still be alive."

But it was only wishful thinking.


	26. Drabble Twenty-Six: Nostalgia

**A/N: Later in the story, the movie they're referring to is not _Romeo and Juliet._**

 **Word Count: 305**

 **Drabble Twenty-Six: Nostalgia**

"Remember the memories we made in this flat?" he asked, a wave of nostalgia rushing over him.

 _"Where do you want this- OOF!" Fred crashed into Hermione, the box of stuff spilling it's contents on to the carpeted floor. He tripped and landed on top of her, their lips connecting briefly._

 _She gasped, her eyes locking with his._

 _"Oops?"_

 _"I don't think that it was a bad accident, Fred."_

 _"Neither do I."_

 _"Needs more testing though."_

 _"Yup, just to make sure."_

 _So, they kissed again. After all, when you experiment, you have to run the test multiple times._

"Aw..." Hermione thought aloud, the two thinking of the memory they shared. "Our first kiss."

"That box was heavy." Fred said, laughing at the absurdity of it all. He looked at the comfortable, plush black couch which they had bought when they moved in.

 _"You love me." she teased._

 _"Oh, yes I do."_

 _The two were sitting on the couch after having their first date in the flat, Fred making a homemade dinner then the two watched a movie. Hermione was cuddled up into Fred's side, her legs stretching along the couch while Fred's hand absentmindedly petted her hair._

 _The movie had just ended, the credits rolling across the screen while triumphant music played in the background._

 _"That was… interesting." he mused._

 _"How so?" Hermione asked, staring straight ahead._

 _"You know," he began. "It's kind of ironic that you'd choose this movie. Two lovers are secretly dating behind their friend's and family's backs, even though they know the danger of being found out."_

 _She hummed, "I wonder who that could relate to."_

"I love this flat."

"So do I."

"Let's replicate our seventh date." Fred wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. Hermione slapped his arm lightly.

"Not a chance, Romeo."


	27. Drabble Twenty-Seven: Stranger

**A/N: This ties in with the next prompt as well (Heartbeat). Not just gonna leave you hanging! What kind of author do you take me for? xD**

 **Word Count: 494**

 **Drabble Twenty-Seven: Stranger**

With a particularly large stack of tomes from the library that looked pretty heavy in Hermione's hands, she made her way to the Gryffindor common room. She couldn't see over the books, walking around the castle blindly, with only her memory to guide her. She passed the familiar portrait of the ballerina who waved to her when she stubbed her toe.

"Ack!" she yelped, tumbling forward. She put her hands out to stop herself from landing on the cold, hard tile of the hallway.

Her hands never touched the ground. Confusion struck her. She soon realized a warm, steady, strong pair of arms had caught her.

"Watch yourself, princess." he chuckled quietly, obviously a guy from the masculine tone. The figure could not be made out: it was too dark.

Hermione was too stunned to fire back for his comment. She usually protested when _anyone_ called her a princess, which she most definitely was not. But this was different. Some random person had decided to help her.

"Thanks." she breathed as he extended a hand to her. She grabbed it thankfully and pulled herself up. The figure had already started gathering her books.

"Bloody hell, Granger." he groaned, struggling to carry the stack. "You should get more credit than you're given. These are bloody heavy."

Hermione smiled at the unknown person, and gratefully took her books back.

"Thanks, again." she said, watching from the side of her books as the figure leaned against the wall.

She stopped herself from moving back in the direction she had planned, and stopped. "Why did you help me?" she asked curiously.

"I'd help you in a heartbeat." he said casually.

"Who are you?"

She thought she could see a glint of mischievousness in his eyes, just barely. "I'm your prince, cloaked in darkness, shrouded in mystery, with just a hint of foolishness, fair mistress of the castle. I'm the jester, jovially filled with fun, acted as a clown, with sharp wit, fair maiden of Gryffindor."

Hermione was grinning at this point, evidently holding back her laughter. She didn't think he would continue.

"I'm your savior, the Boy Who Just Wouldn't Die, vanquisher of evil, with just a bit of egotistical-ness, fair princess of the Wizarding World."

She couldn't stifle her laughter anymore, breaking out into large fits of giggles, almost causing her to drop her books.

"Name?" she asked hopefully. She'd like to see him again, though he seemed pretty familiar.

"No can do." the silhouette shrugged. "You'd be surprised by who I am."

"Do you think I care?"

"Not particularly."

She sighed in frustration. So she turned on her heel and left, knowing that he probably wouldn't give up the information. What a shame, she left. Because in the darkness, the nameless stranger whispered it's name, so softly that only she could have heard it if she strained her ears carefully.

"Fred."


	28. Drabble Twenty-Eight: Heartbeat

**A/N: Started reading _Romeo and Juliet_ today. Got me into a weird mood. Agh, heartbreak and angst are not good for this author. 0.o**

 **Word Count: 362**

 **Drabble Twenty-Eight: Heartbeat**

"Fred." he murmured to himself. He slipped out of the shadows he hid in, watching as unknowing footsteps glided away from him. The echoing of the "click-clack" of her sneakers flew down the hall towards him, the footfalls oddly unsettling in his chest. His heart longed for the object of his affection who would never return his feelings.

Figures, he thought glumly. The only girl he'd fall head over heels for would be a bookworm.

"Opposites attract." he remarked sadly. He knew the phrase well. His annoying, insufferable git of a brother, George Fabian Weasley liked to remind him of the fact often. In fact, that was the only thing that he teased him about nowadays, knowing that he'd hit a nerve in his twin.

His heartbeat lay a fast rated pace, uneven and unreliable. The prankster sank down against the wall with an aching heart. She'd never love him back. Fred clasped his hands together, resting them over his knees. Hanging his head, he quietly relinquished his hold on sanity and sobbed, great soulful sobs. They racked through his body with such force. He let go of all his pain, sorrow, knowing that she'd never love him back, never know. It was hard to keep going on, because living without her hurt. Living on glances of her in the hallway barely sated his need for her.

They had exchanged words few times, but he felt as if he was her best friend by the summers that Ron spent admiring and obsessing about her. She was a wonderful person: kind, smart, and brave. The ideal person for Fred, even though she was a little bit of a stickler for rules.

But he knew that if she needed him, he'd be there in a heartbeat. Even if she only wanted his help, he'd give her his love, albeit subtly. And she'd never know. Alas, the lady would never know how much he hurt without her. The lady would never know what sorrowful nights he'd spend on the staircase contemplating life without her. The lady would never know that he loved her. Ignorance is bliss.


	29. Drabble Twenty-Nine: Bitter

**A/N: First things first, I'd like to thank swimmer_girl (from Ao3) for her support of this series. I'll try to twist the next one happy for your happy ending. :) This drabble, 27, 28, and 30 are connected.**

 **Ahh, slight swearing warning.**

 **Word Count: 408**

 **Drabble Twenty-Nine: Bitter**

" _Your bitter heart cold to the touch._ " Hermione hummed along to the song while cleaning up her room.

" _Now I'm gonna reap what I sow_." she finished and reluctantly shut off her music. After she met that damn mysterious guy in the hallway, she felt a little weird later. Her heart was pounding, tinged with sadness and longing. Hermione had no idea where it came from. She had retained the bitter feeling in her chest, but it occasionally shot tingles throughout her body. The scanned her body, reaching from the tips of her toes to the lengths of her fingertips.

She felt bad for feeling so much for this guy, when she didn't even know him. Ron was who she was supposed to like- no, expected to _love-_ but she didn't. No, Ron wasn't the one she liked. The brunette had harbored a not-so-small crush on a different red head, by the name of Fred Gideon Weasley. That insufferable git was the one she had fallen in love with. He'd never return the feelings though.

Whenever the female member of the Golden Trio's thoughts wandered to the topic of _him_ , she forcefully shoved them out the window, leaving them to lie forgotten on the ground below. But the feelings persisted, and she had learned to hide them and live with it.

Figures, she had thought at first. The only person I'd fall for is the complete opposite from me: a prankster. Funny, sweet, and mischievous.

Hermione lived off the little moments that she saw him. Maybe just a passing in classes, perhaps he was hanging out with George and Lee in the Gryffindor common room. That kept her conscious rooting for her to act upon her feelings that had the determination to climb up the vertical building and back in the window to bother her. The Head Girl sighed, and fell back onto her bed with a satisfying thump. Emotions, now officially, _sucked_.

The bitter feeling in her chest just wouldn't go away. It stayed there, holding all of it's pain and sorrow pent up in her core. Of course she knew there was an ailment that was similar to her symptoms. Heartache. Not literally, but her figurative heart aching for someone to fill the gap. What she didn't know is that someone was feeling the exact same way, just across the way. Fate was always a bitch.


	30. Drabble Thirty: Rules

**A/N: Yup. Missed yesterdays. Oops. Hope you like this, swimmer_girl!**

 **Word Count: 556**

 **Drabble Thirty: Rules**

Rules. Rules, rules, rules. They make everything nice and orderly. Rules made sure no one overstepped their bounds or their allowances. Hermione Granger loved rules. In her opinion, they kept all of the students at Hogwarts sane. There are rules for everything: relationships, school, home, even unspoken ones. In fact, rules are great until someone decides to break them. And that's exactly what Hermione was going to do.

There is an unspoken brotherly and sisterly code of relationships among family members. For instance, if Brother A liked a girl, then Brothers B and C cannot like her or make a 'move' on her. The same goes for the girl: if she knows the other guy likes her, then she has to make sure that their siblings don't try to get the girl themselves and that she doesn't make a 'move' on them.

To be specific, Hermione was going to break those rules and confess her feelings to Fred.

Heheh.

This isn't the first time she's broken rules. Oh no, quite the opposite. It's really hard not to break rules when you're The-Boy-Who-Just-Wouldn't-Die's best friend. Hermione preferred to call her rule breaking, 'rule bending'. She only broke parts of the rules, usually. After her conquests and adventures, Hermione would head to the library and check out the _Hogwarts Rule Book,_ find out the rules that she might have broken, and tried to come up with a valid argument why she didn't break them. So not technically breaking the rules enough to get a detention, if that makes sense.

But this would be the first time she'd completely and utterly smashed a rule to smithereens.

.o0o.

"Fred?" she asked tentatively, wringing her hands in front of her nervously. The person in question turned around, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and grinned a familiar smile at her, his hair falling over one of his eyes.

"What's up, princess?" he teased affectionately, ruffling her curls.

"Um..." she began.

Fred smirked and jokingly said, "That's a good start. How about a, 'I like you, Fred. I'd like to date you."

Hermione blushed. "That's actually," she blushed a deeper red. "-what I was going to say."

The twin's jaw dropped. He pointed at her, his mouth gaping. He then pointed to Ron, who sat across the common room obliviously playing a round a Wizard's Chess with Seamus, then back at her.

She rubbed her arm that was hanging at her side and looked down at the ground.

"Really?" Fred broke the uncomfortable silence.

"Really." she confirmed. She paused for a minute. "Why are you so calm while taking this?"

"Because I like you, too." he said calmly.

"And because I'm your prince, cloaked in darkness, shrouded in mystery, with just a hint of foolishness, fair mistress of the castle." he quoted while Hermione stared at him. It was her turn to have her mouth agape.

"That was you?" the brunette asked in disbelief, her eyes widening before returning back to their normal size.

"Yup." he replied cheekily.

She smiled at him sadly. "If you had told me earlier, I would have done this before now."

Hermione threw her arms around his neck and pulled his lips to hers.


	31. Drabble Thirty-One: Accidental Magic

**A/N: I seem to be into posting connecting drabbles as of recently. :)**

 **Word Count: 624**

 **Drabble Thirty-One: Accidental Magic**

Hermione pumped her fists in triumph, thanking her mom who waved her out of the house.

The seven-year old had a forest behind her house that had a wide expanse of trees. There was a river dividing the forest that started at a waterfall near Shirkshire Cliffs. That river acted as her boundary for where she shouldn't cross. That was the only way that her mother would let her play in the grove. She'd often sit on a comfortable rock in the clearing next on the water's edge which she had carved her initials in, and dreamed of what was on the other side.

One day, she had seen a head of platinum blonde hair that had highly contrasted against the earthy tones of the forest. The pigtailed brunette had called out to it, but like a deer in headlights, the figure had frozen and scampered off into the depths of the large forest.

Today, Hermione sat on her rock, twirling a stick between her fingers and tossing it up, then catching it. She had a sudden urge to say something absolutely arbitrary. She imagined a rock in her hand, made of a shimmery purple material, flat and smooth.

"I want a purple rock!" she blurted without thinking, watching in amazement as a small, flat, stone whizzed toward her. It landed in her hand with a soft bounce, with barely a sign of where it had come from. She looked at it curiously. She imagined another rock in her hand, a green one this time. It flew from the other side of the forest this time, and there sat a green rock, just a second later after she had wished for it.

"So you _can_ do magic!" a small voice exclaimed. Hermione physically jumped up from her rock, consequently dropping her new-found rocks, and looked at the usually still bushes which were now rustling. A familiar head of blonde hair popped out, sticking his head out.

She screamed, and fell backwards on her bum. The girl looked frighteningly at the boy who climbed out of the bushes and stuck out his hand. She gratefully took it and pulled herself up. The boy proceeded to stuff his hands in his pockets and Hermione took a good look at him.

He was wearing a crisp white dress shirt that was slightly crumpled at the hem. He wore black pants, that looked quite expensive. The boy was wearing a strange, solid black cape of sorts draped over his shoulders.

"Draco Malfoy." he announced politely, holding his hand out for her to shake it.

"Hermione. Hermione... Granger." she said, unsure of where he had come from. Conflicting within herself, Hermione pushed down her doubts. "Were you... were you spying on me?"

"Uh..." Draco clasped his hands behind his back and pretended to whistle ignorantly.

She giggled and shrugged. "Whatever."

"Whatever." he repeated happily.

"What's magic?" Hermione asked curiously, looking at the boy who gasped.

"You don't know what magic is?" he stared dumbfoundedly.

Hermione looked confused. "I can't do magic. That's what the people in stories can do." The seven-year old grinned. "There's this awesome series called Harry Otter, and it's one of the best things ever! This otter goes to something called Hoggywarts and learns magic!"

Draco frowned. "Are you a pureblood?"

"What's a pureblood?"

The blonde suddenly looked very scared. "You're a mudblood?"

Hermione just stared at him.

"Oh, bloody-" Draco turned and ran off.

The little girl stood there, still facing the direction of where the interesting boy had run off in.

"Strange."

.o0o.

"Accidental magic." he whispered to himself, rocking in his fetal position. "I hope she's at Hogwarts."


	32. Drabble Thirty-Two: Fake

**A/N: First of the month of February prompts! Yes, I know. I'm two days behind. xD And finally, a Draco POV.**

 **Word Count: 544**

 **Drabble Thirty-Two: Fake**

"Remember, Slytherin is the best house." his father reminded him. The small family of three was soon to be two, because Draco Malfoy was being sent off to Hogwarts today. The group stood at Platform 9 3/4 together as Narcissa embraced her only son with a hug before ushering towards the train. He smiled weakly and stepped on the train that would take him to his home away from home for the next seven years.

He quickly found an empty compartment and claimed it before any of the older years could wander in. He put on a hostile expression, glaring at anyone that tried to come in until the train started moving. A yelp sounded outside of the glass sliding doors, and a large creak emitted from the movement of them.

"Um, hello?" a small voice asked shyly. The blonde looked up and saw a pretty, curly-haired brunette at the door of the compartment.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" she blushed. "I didn't see any others that weren't full. Sorry."

Draco grunted in acknowledgement, allowing her to sit across from him. Hermione walked delicately to the seat and sat down, her posture straight and polite.

"What's your name?" he asked, straightening himself up to match her pose and act like the pureblood his father tried to mold him to be.

"Hermione. Hermione Granger." she said politely.

A twinge of recognition appeared in Draco's mind, and his conscience urged him to remember where he knew that name from. "Do I... do I know you?" he inquired curiously. He knew that he'd known her from somewhere.

"What's your name?"

"Draco Malfoy." he offered politely.

She gasped. "You're that boy from the forest!" she exclaimed excitedly.

He did a quick scan of his memories of the forest next to Shirkshire Cliffs.

 _"So, you_ can _do magic!" he announced happily, surging out of the bush with a Malfoy-esque grace._

 _..._

 _"Hermione. Hermione Granger."_

"You remember me?" he stammered out, looking at her in amazement.

"Well, your name really." she shrugged. "At that age, I had never heard of a name quite like that."

She brightened considerably. "Do you think we can hangout at Hogwarts? I don't really know anybody."

"I don't think so."

.o0o.

"You filthy, filthy mudblood." he sneered at her.

Hermione looked crestfallen, as he had told her what that awful word meant on the train ride. And to think, just a matter of mere hours ago, they were having a polite, maybe even _friendly_ , conversation.

"Get away from me, before you taint my clothes and my blood."

Draco curled his lip in fake disgust and spat on her shoes with such a believable distaste, when it was anything but. He strode away with a fake haughtiness of one who thought themselves better than anybody. Later when he'd look back on the memory, he'd regret getting rid of the only intelligent person at Hogwarts, but it had to be done: his father would punish him if he caught him consorting with a mudblood.

All of his personality was fake, a fluke. Not real at all. But since that's what Draco needed to do to survive, that's what he did.


	33. Drabble Thirty-Three: Presumptuous

**A/N: Now I'm one day behind. :) Oh, this skips a couple years, BTW.**

 **Word Count: 560**

 **Drabble Thirty-Three: Presumptuous**

 _Presumptuous- (of a person or their behavior) failing to observe the limits of what is permitted or appropriate._

Draco was certainly presumptuous. As a pureblood, according to his parents, anyway, he shouldn't even acknowledge those of lesser blood lineage unless it's taunting them. He'd broken that rule many times over, some without knowing, some with a definitive decision of defiance. In reflection of his actions, he knew that he didn't regret any of the moments over the years that he'd spent with Hermione Granger. None at all.

.o0o.

 _Meet me in the aisle with Architect's Dream._

 _-DM_

Hermione received the owl and sent it off with an affectionate scratch, a treat, and a slip of paper reading, ' _7 PM_ ' on it. It wasn't her favorite type of friendship to have, but at the moment, it was one of her best friendships. After the mountain troll incident, she had got a paper that ordered her to go to the library to practice her spells. There had stood Draco Malfoy, twirling a quill over his fingers and looking bored. He had told her, " _Even though this is presumptuous of me, I want to be your friend._ "

Since then, the two friends planned frequent rendezvous together, of course avoiding Harry and Ron, and Crabbe and Goyle. This was normal. One of them would send an owl with a book's name on it, and the other would find the aisle with the book and waited for the other inconspicuously. Some times they would talk, sometimes they'd sit in silence, reading together and doing homework. They'd kept up this schedule for six years, very rarely breaking it, except for the time in which Hermione was petrified. Draco had still brought her flowers and notes reading inside jokes between them to her bedside when nobody was watching.

She checked her watch, which read _6:30_. Scurrying down the hallway, she made her way to the library and waved to Madam Pince who smiled comfortingly at her.

"R... r..." she muttered to herself. "Aha!"

Stumbling into the aisle, she tripped over a forgotten book on the floor.

"Careful, princess." Draco said in a low voice, their position mimicking one of dancer's dropping their partner, then suddenly catching them. "You might hurt yourself."

"Aren't you a presumptuous, but perfect gentleman?" she teased.

"Uh-huh." he rolled his eyes and lifted her so that she stood on her two feet by herself.

The two headed over to their regular table, which was in a private study room that only opened with a password. Madam Pince rarely gave the rooms to students except for regulars and during exam time. Draco and Hermione had claimed the comfortably furnished room back in first year, and this was their designated room for meeting since.

"Hey, Hermione?" he interrupted the silence.

"Yeah." she responded, scribbling away at her Charms homework.

"You want to go to the Christmas Ball with me?"

Turning to look at him, Hermione seemed surprised. "Huh?"

"I like you." he admitted. "I'd like to date you, if that's alright. We can use the excuse of promoting house unity as Head Boy and Girl, and-"

Hermione pressed a finger to his lips, effectively cutting off his train of words.

"I'd love to go with you." she smiled.


	34. Drabble Thirty-Four: Tea

**A/N: A bit short today, I've been working on the next two and my PDS1 finale. :)**

 **Word Count: 257**

 **Drabble Thirty-Four: Tea**

Draco gathered his books into his leather messenger bag, slung it over his shoulder, and headed down the Head Tower stairs and started making his way to the library. He slipped through the great, carved, oak wood doors and speed-walked, well, as fast as he thought he could get away with without Madam Pince scolding him, toward the study room. He set his bag down on the table and conjured up two mugs, two bags of tea, and a hot water dispenser. Yes, you can get those at Hogwarts.

Setting the grey and blue mugs apart from each other, Draco's head shot up once he heard the familiar clicking of the door closing.

"Hey." Hermione said, tucking a stray curl behind her ear, her books clutched in front of her.

"Hey, you." he replied, handing her the grey mug. "I just finished making the tea."

They smiled at each other, and both took their favorite armchairs which sat across from each other.

Tea time was on Tuesdays at four o'clock, when neither of them had many classes: three each, Charms, Potions, and Transfiguration respectively. Hermione always made an effort to make it to tea time with Draco, and he made an effort to be there before she did to make tea. She liked Earl Grey tea and he liked his black. Often they'd sit there in almost complete, but comfortable silence, with the occasional slurp of tea and the scratching of a quill.

Yes, tea time was very special to both of them.


	35. Drabble Thirty-Five: Mistakes

**A/N: So. I'm sick. Funn. You know what? I'm posting PDS1 Finale on Tuesday. That's sixth months of being on fanfiction! :D**

 **Word Count: 287**

 **Drabble Thirty-Five: Mistakes**

"I know we've both made mistakes." she admitted softly. "But we _can_ make it through this."

Hermione placed her hand on Draco's shoulder, rubbing small circles where her thumb rested. He sighed, reluctantly moving her hand off from it's place.

"How am I supposed to forgive myself?" he muttered angrily at himself.

"It's ok-"

"Don't you _dare_ say it's alright." Draco cut her off in a dangerously low voice.

"I've forgiven you, you know." Hermione murmured, threading her arms around his neck from behind, hugging him.

"It's not that." he muttered, holding her hands for reassurance. "I haven't forgiven myself."

She shook her head. "You couldn't have done anything. It'd have blown your cover."

He yanked away from her despairingly, running his hands through his hair.

"I could have."

"Stop torturing yourself!" she cried out, finally showing her true thoughts. "I've had enough of you lamenting your decision to not prevent me from getting tortured. You couldn't have done anything. So stop! It's not your fault."

He hung his head, shoving his hands in his pockets as long locks of fine blonde hair fellows his hardened grey eyes.

"Draco." she strained quietly, reaching her hand out to touch his face.

"Draco." she repeated, holding his face gently and tilting it to look up at her. "Look at me. Look into my eyes."

He took a deep breath and met her eyes. The brown and grey clashed heavily before Draco looked away, instead finding the ground to be quite fascinating.

"I love you." he said, without any hesitation.

"I love you, too, Draco." Hermione threw her arms around him again.

"Mistakes are what makes us human." she grinned at him who finally smiled back. A true, genuine smile.


	36. Drabble Thirty-Six: Books

**A/N: -ArtemisIcePrincess, thank you! ^ ^**

 **Word Count: 381**

 **Drabble Thirty-Six: Books**

"Bye Adelaide! Have a nice weekend!" Hermione called to her coworker who hung her keys on the hook and waved back. The blonde exited the bookshop, leaving Hermione as the only employee still working the late shift of her very own store.

 _Quills and Parchment_ was a fairly known bookstore in Diagon Alley, being the only chain of it. It had always been a dream of her's to own one, but she'd never really considered it until one of her friends was looking to sell the space.

After the war, Hermione didn't want anything to do with what her childhood had been like. While Harry and Ron had become Aurors, Hermione had bought a flat and worked at a Muggle school to teach English.

Now, she lived a comfortable life manning her books: literally, her life and love. She couldn't imagine anything happier.

She was thrown out of her thoughts when she heard the familiar tinkle of the fairy bell, signaling a customer had walked it.

"Hey, bookworm." Hermione smiled at him, at which he returned the smile.

"Hey, bookie." Draco teased her, walking towards the front desk and kissing her cheek. Their terms of endearment for each other were... different then others usually had. After all, who calls their girlfriend a bookie?

The two had bonded over their shared love of books and thirst for knowledge. Th only Malfoy left in the line had wandered into her shop one day.

 _"A friend recommended your selection of books." he had said to her politely when he walked in the first day._

Books were something they had in common, and that was what their relationship had blossomed from. Often they'd spend hours talking about which science fiction novels were better, and if this theory made sense, or if that statement was true.

"I suppose you're only here for the books?" Hermione quirked an eyebrow playfully.

"Yes, of course. It's not like my beautiful girlfriend is in the room where the books are." he sighed. "I guess I'll just have to settle with the wonderful books in the corner over there."

Hermione grinned at him, and he tipped an invisible hat at her.

"You, goof, you. Thank you." she smiled. "For brightening my day."

"Pleasure."


	37. Drabble Thirty-Seven: Fate

**A/N: Heheh, little late. Been working on my PDS1 Finale again.**

 **Word Count: 395**

 **Drabble Thirty-Seven: Fate**

 _BEEP. BEEP. BEEP._

"Oh, sh-" Hermione cursed, shoving her books and papers into her usually neatly kept bag and sprinted out the door. Hogwarts had a tradition, where the Head Girl and Head Boy did something for the magical community: whether it be volunteering, charity, or educating students, every Head student had to do something. Hermione had always wanted to start a speech and debate club since she found the list of clubs tacked on the common room bulletin board. Consequently, for her Head Girl project, she accomplished her seven year dream to start one.

Every Wednesday at 4:00 PM, students of all years were invited to join the club, and if they had classes until 4:30, were given a pass. The debate club lasted until five, so it was sort of a win-win situation if you wanted to get out of Snape's class _and_ get out of any detentions during that time. Right now, it was 3:50 PM. Unfortunately for Hermione, the debate club was on the opposite side of the castle.

The brunette sprinting through the halls, her hair thrown up in a messy ponytail flying behind her when she collided with something- or rather, _someone_ , causing her to drop her belongings. The person tripped and fell on top of her, accidentally landing a kiss on her lips.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry. I'm just rushing..." she blushed, and looked up to see the Head Boy look down at her curiously.

"Are you alright, Hermione?" Draco asked, not moving. His hands were pressed against the stone tiles so that he wouldn't crush her.

"Just... just fine." she said, maybe a bit too quickly.

Draco immediately got off her, dusted himself off, then offered a hand to help her up. She took it gratefully, gracefully pulling herself up.

"Thank you." she breathed, and he turned a smile at her before heading down the hallway as if that incident hadn't happened.

As Hermione continued making her way towards the debate classroom, this time at a more normal pace, she couldn't help but over-analyze the situation at hand.

It wasn't that that confused her though. It was the puddle of tingling nerves that sat in the pit of her stomach. It seemed almost like fate that it would happen with Draco Malfoy.

Draco. Freaking. Malfoy.


	38. Drabble Thirty-Eight: Alone

**A/N: Yup. Late. :(**

 **Word Count: 343**

 **Drabble Thirty-Eight: Alone**

"You've got to stop doing this, you know." Hermione chided him from where she leaned against the door frame. Draco's head abruptly snapped up, finding her walking towards him. She plucked the half-drained bottle of _Ogden's Finest_ out of his hand and placed it on the shelf, where for the time being, he couldn't reach. Mewling pitifully after his "baby" had been taken away, the drunk Slytherin glared at her.

"Why you take my baby?" he demanded. "I love my baby."

"You have to stop drinking yourself stupid on weekdays." she chastised him, handing him a small vial of hangover potion from a well-stocked cabinet. The elixir would cause him to be coherent for the night and not have a massive headache in the morning.

Hermione was unsettled, to say the least, that she could admit she knew Draco drunk more in a day than she had in in her _life_ : but only on a bad day. Unfortunately, he had a lot of bad days. Sixth year had been more than hard on Draco. After all, with the vanishing cabinet, his _task_ to kill Dumbledore, and Voldemort himself hanging over his head, the sixteen year old had a lot of stress on his plate.

Most days, Hermione would visit the Room of Requirement after hours, on "patrol", and find him passed out on the floor. After the first time, Hermione had brewed a handful of cauldrons worth with recovery potion.

"Being alone on your task doesn't mean I can't help you. You don't have to do it alone." she pleaded.

"I have to. I don't want you to die." he said firmly. "Not after all you've done for me. I can't- _won't_ \- let you die, Hermione."

"Isn't there anyway I can help?" she asked helplessly.

"Stay with me."

"What?"

"Stay with me." he repeated.

Draco cleared his throat. "I may not be able to let you help me physically, but maybe you can keep me sane.

She smiled, tackling him in a gentle hug.

"I can do that."

"I don't want to be alone."


	39. Drabble Thirty-Nine: Space

**A/N: Heh... short...**

 **Word Count: 150**

 **Drabble Thirty-Nine: Space**

Space. There are many definitions, but there are two main ones: outer space, and physical space. Sadly, the latter is what Draco wanted. The space hung in between them like a thick curtain of invisible mist; the kind that you can sense is there, but don't talk about it. So, Draco wanted- _needed_ \- space from Hermione. And whatever Draco wanted he got.

Space may be something many desire: as in space between that creep for the park. You know, _that_ guy? Other space is seen when an author accidentally doesthis. Heheh. The one affecting Hermione was the hanging space between her and Draco. Imagine a cold, harsh, winter landscape with biting, freezing temperatures. That is currently the course of their relationship, figuratively, or course.

Neither liked that kind of space. But it was there. And the space between them was just a factor of their broken courtship.

Space. Huh.


	40. Drabble Forty: Letters

**A/N: Not feeling the happy vibe from my muse lately... :(**

 **Word Count: 367**

 **Drabble Forty: Letters**

Draco shuffled boxes around his closet, his eyes finally landing on an old, light blue shoe box. He leaned forward and tentatively reached for the box. Reaching his hands out to grasp the sides of the box, he set the small six-by-twelve inch box. Slipping off the lid, he stared at the contents of it. Regret flared up in his chest like a fire. He hesitantly picked up one of the crisp white letters, adorned in a very familiar scripted font. Oh, how he knew that penmanship well.

 _How is school going? I miss you. It's been really lonely without you here. Ron and Harry only talk about Quidditch nowadays, and I'm dying for a conversation with another intellectual. Neither of the boys are very pleasant. Please reply. I miss you._

 _Hermione_

That was the first one she sent him after her leave.

 _I miss you, you know. I'm sorry for leaving so abruptly, and without warning, but it had to be done. How can I make it up to you (when I get back)?_

 _H._

After he hadn't responded.

 _Are you ignoring me purposefully? It's really hard to get these letters sent out, you know. Can't stay in one place and all that. I get one per week. I hope I'm not wasting two per month on you._

 _H._

Once he realized the brevity of their relationship, and what it could have been.

 _I love you._

 _H. XO_

* * *

Hermione rooted through her stuff from seventh year, or what she considered it. After all, the Horcrux Hunt wasn't exactly ideal. She was planning on doing a full clean up of her room, and all of her belongings before "eighth" year started. Her eyes landed on a long green box, covered in a thin layer of dust from sitting in the back of her drawers.

The contents didn't give her pleasant memories. The box contained everything that reminded her of Draco: not that the stuff itself wasn't great, but it reminded her of what she had lost. On the top lay the most meaningful item: a slightly crinkled, white envelope.

 _I love you, too._

 _D. XO_


	41. Drabble Forty-One: Flying Lesson

**A/N: Yes. I know. I had a friend over! And swim! And procrastination!**

 **Word Count: 341**

 **Drabble Forty-One: Flying Lesson**

"I _refuse_ to go anywhere near that contraption." Hermione declared stubbornly, crossing her arms across her chest and glaring daggers at Draco

"C'mon, Mione." the blonde whined. "Besides. Your best mates fly, your best friend flies, and your boyfriend flies!"

"No."

"Seriously?" he asked in disbelief. "You don't trust me to keep you safe on a little old broomstick?"

She spun on her heel, looking him straight in the eye. "Draco Lucius Malfoy, I refuse to get on that broom for a flying lesson. Honestly."

"Will you go by yourself then?"

"Fine." she sighed, heading back towards the house. Draco sprinted after her, reaching out a hand to stop her.

"Where are you going?" he demanded. "I thought you were going flying!"

Hermione shrugged. "I have my own broom that I fly, though it's a bit beat up. I'm not going to borrow yours. I'm just going back to get it."

He stared after her in disbelief. So apparently his girlfriend could fly. And had a broom. That she _used_.

"Un-frigging-believable." he approved.

.o0o.

Hermione strode out of the cream-colored house, Skybolt 3000 in hand. Draco whistled appreciatively, eyeing the broomstick with wide eyes.

" _That's_ your 'beat up' broom?" he asked incredulously.

She scratched the back of her neck. "Yup. I had a Firebolt before, but I got this for my 15th birthday. I can fly, I just don't."

"Why?"

The brunette shrugged, casually mounting her broom. Kicking off with insurmountable grace, she launched herself into the sky, flipping over in a perfect front flip and rising to the sky. Draco quickly kicked off his own broom, following her avidly. She continued to fly, losing herself in the wind.

.o0o.

"Where did you learn how to do that? Th-that was bloody amazing!" he exclaimed, landing softly on the ground while Hermione, who was standing upright, gently lowered her broom to the ground to then hop off.

"Maybe I'll just have to give _you_ a flying lesson." she grinned cheekily.


	42. Drabble Forty-Two: Believe

**A/N: I know. I swear, I'm super busy. This is probably the shortest drabble I've ever done.**

 **Word Count: 184**

 **Drabble Forty-Two: Believe**

"I believe I can fly! I believe I can touch the sky!" Hermione sang gleefully along to the Muggle radio in her room. She danced around her dorm, either singing or humming the famous song by R. Kelly.

Draco groaned into his pillow, rolling on to his side and covering his ears unsuccessfully with the bed adornment. "Don't sing in the mornings, please. It's too early for that."

"Too bad." Hermione grinned, returning to her song, which was still blaring out of the small blue box. "See me running through the open door! I believe I can fly!"

He grunted, acknowledging his loss in the argument, instead giving up on shutting _her_ up. The blonde reluctantly got up from his bed, shaking his shaggy hair so it covered his eyes and reached for the radio. He switched it off, much to Hermione's protest, and collapsed back on the bed.

"I believe that I won't get any sleep with that dreaded thing on, and that you should come join me."

Rolling her eyes, Hermione leaped on to the bed and lay next to her boyfriend.


	43. Drabble Forty-Three: Shout

**A/N: I'm thinking of just updating once a week, but with seven drabbles. Thoughts?**

 **Word Count: 362**

 **Drabble Forty-Three: Shout**

"You lost the bet, mate." Ron grinned cheekily at his new-found friend. Draco glared at him, sighed, and ran his hand through his hair.

"You suck." he moaned, dropping his head into his hands. As only ten of the so called "eighth" years returned to Hogwarts, five girls and five boys, the groups shared dorms and a separate common room for their own enjoyment. The trio and Draco had no choice but to make friends with each other: which wasn't _all_ that bad. After all, they realized that they should set aside their differences and just go with the flow.

"I really don't want to."

"But you have to!" Ron exclaimed, thumping his friend on the back.

A silence fell between the two of them, covering them like a blanket until Draco finally removed his head from his hands.

"Do you know how awkward this is going to be?" he asked in distress. "I _do_ have to see her every day."

"Yup."

Draco glared at him. "I hate you."

"Love you, too, mate." Ron chuckled, shaking his head humorously.

.o0o.

" _Sonorous_." he muttered under his breath, contemplating what he was about to do. "I absolutely, entirely loathe your being right now, Ronald Billius Weasley."

Ron grinned at him from across the courtyard, smiling and exaggerating a big thumbs up.

"Hermione Granger!" he shouted up at the 8th Year Tower, watching as Hermione came to her bedroom window. She watched curiously as Draco hesitated, before smiling weakly at her. Taking a deep breath, Draco looked up at her.

"I... l-love you!"

.o0o.

"What was the bet, anyway?" Hermione asked. She was cuddled into Draco's side, his arm wrapped around her shoulders as the two watched the embers emit from the slowly dying fire.

"Huh?"

She shifted to look at him. "That bet. The one back in eight year?"

He chuckled in recognition, meeting her eyes for a moment. "Oh. _That_." Draco returned his gaze to the fireplace, reliving the memory.

 _"Whoever loses has to confess to their crush their feelings from the courtyard below the Eighth Year Tower, and have to shout it as loud as they can."_


	44. Drabble Forty-Four: Apple

**A/N: Heheh. I've seen this pairing before. GO DRAPPLE!**

 **Word Count: 281**

 **Drabble Forty-Four: Apple**

Draco took a huge bite out of his glorious red Fuji apple, savoring the flavor that erupted into his mouth. Ever since he was a child, he had loved apples. They were sweet, fruit, and could be made into yummy tarts and delicious candies. In third year, his mood about apples had dampened after the hippogriff incident. But still, he incessantly loved his apples.

Unsurprisingly, his friends and acquaintances teased him about his first love any chance they got. Especially his girlfriend. Oh, yes. Hermione Granger just _loved_ making fun of his love for the juicy fruit. Sometimes she mentioned that he loved those apples more than he loved her.

At the moment, Draco had in front of him a huge bowl of those wonderful creations, freshly washed and beautifully picked from one of the finest orchards in the entire wizarding world. The front door of the flat burst open, revealing a head of brunette hair, quietly humming to herself.

A small _click_ was heard as the door shut.

"Hey Draco!" Hermioine said happily as she set her bag down on the couch and flounced over to give him a kiss on the cheek. "What's up?"

"Not much." he admitted, taking another bite of his apple. "Just loving this bunch of apples that you go me."

"I see." she bopped him on the nose teasingly. "I ship it."

Draco looked at her in shock. "W-what?"

"I ship it." she repeated. Out of the blue, she gasped and did a little dance. "I've got the perfect ship name. Drapple!"

He scowled at her. "I don't love my apples _that_ much."

"Yes you do." Hermione smiled knowingly.

Draco sighed.


	45. Drabble Forty-Five: Little

**A/N: I'm having a little less time to write nowadays, sorry guys.**

 **Word Count: 171**

 **Drabble Forty-Five: Little**

Little things.

Pecks on the cheek that lay in her mind, goading her to remember them during unrelated parts of the day. Cute post-it notes urging her to never give up and keep smiling left on her desk in the morning. A setting of chamomile or Earl Grey tea on her bedstand when she got home late at night. The little things that Draco did for Hermione made her day all that much bettter. It made her smile after a hard day of work, where all she wanted to do was spend time with her signifigant other. She hated when she'd have to leave all of a sudden without even a note for Draco. Even though he understood, it broke her heart every time she left.

No, working for the Ministry wasn't fun. They had her at their beck and call, and used that priviledge excessively.

But the little things that Draco did for her kept her going. It's the little things that can matter the most.


	46. Drabble Forty-Six: Social

**A/N: Really off the prompt. Actually, this was supposed to be D45, but I felt like this fit Fred/Hermione better.**

 **Word Count: 229**

 **Drabble Forty-Six: Social**

Hermione slunk around the corners of the party room. The tremendous ball room was decked out in streamers, balloons, banners, and tables with food. It's not that she hated parties. In reality, Hermione _liked_ parties. Really!

The only thing about this particular party that she didn't like was the theme. Yes, the war sucked, and now was over. Yes, it _should_ be a time for celebration. But Hermione just... wasn't in the mood. They had lost so many people in the war. The party was just too close to that horrible day...

She was still mourning. May 2nd had been one of the worst days of her life. Being social just didn't seem fun anymore after the "incident", as she had dubbed it. Even in her mind, she refused to admit what had happened. That day had torn apart the rest of her life.

The worst part was the fact that she had to mourn in secret.

Because nobody knew that she loved him. Nobody knew that they had dated for almost three years under the mask of study buddies. Nobody knew that he had proposed to her the day the trio got back. And of course, nobody knew that Hermione Granger wasn't actually Hermione Granger. She was Hermione Jean Weasley.

Because she was married to the late Fred Weasley. And he was gone.


	47. Drabble Forty-Seven: Staircase

**A/N: Lots of short drabbles...**

 **Word Count: 169**

 **Drabble Forty-Seven: Staircase**

 _"Wait!" Fred called after Hermione who had darted from the living room moments earlier. The brunette had gone out of the room and almost escaped upstairs before she ducked her head back down, looking at him curiously. A corkscrew curl was blown across her face messily, as she redid her ponytail with her hands._

 _"Yeah?" she said breathlessly, finishing doing her hair, but still staying on the staircase._

 _"I want-_ need _, actually- to tell you something." he blurted, rubbing the back of his neck nervously._

 _"Uh, sure."_

 _"I.. um-I like you?" he offered shyly._

 _"I like you, too." Hermione replied, smiling brightly at him._

 _"I mean- I_ like-like _you." Fred mumbled._

 _"I do to."_

 _Fred's eyes widened considerably and Hermione blushed, then looked anywhere but his face._

 _"Really?" he asked in disbelief._

 _"Yes."_

After that, the staircase in the Burrow was one of Hermione and Fred's favorite places. Oh, that staircase. That they'd eventually have their first kiss on. But that's another story.


	48. Drabble Forty-Eight: Box

**A/N: I believe I'm supposed to have 50 up today...**

 **Word Count: 211**

 **Drabble Forty-Eight: Box**

It was a perfectly normal, sunny day. Oh, the birds were chirping and twittering whilst Hermione bustled around her flat doing the most whimsical of tasks: cleaning. Yup. Definitely the _best_ task _ever_ to do on a Saturday. Ah, sarcasm.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the loud chime of the doorbell.

"Coming!" she called, putting away the silverware in the correct places and bustling over to the door. Hermione swept open the bland white-washed door to find- no one. There wan't a person there, but instead, a box sat on her doorstep. It was quite a plain box: just a regular, stereotypical, unbranded, brown cardboard box.

Hermione picked up the box hesitantly. She estimated the box to be about two and a half by three feet in width, and the height about two or so feet.

"I don't think I ordered anything..." Hermione murmured. That's when she heard it. An impossibly quiet mew, as soft as a sucking lamb was emitted from the box.

"Oh, my..." she gasped, ushering the box inside and quickly removing the tape that restricted the opening.

"Mew?"

It was a cute, calico kitten, staring up at her happily, her head cocked to the side innocently. Surprises always came in cardboard boxes. Huh.


	49. Drabble Forty-Nine: Tyrant

**A/N: Little bit of Ron-bashing... heheh.**

 **Word Count: 349**

 **Drabble Forty-Nine: Tyrant**

"Why in the bloody hell won't you take this to the next step? We've been a couple for practically five years! Even _Harry_ has been wondering why we haven't done it yet! Why are you so bloody hesitant?" Ron fumed, projecting his anger on to Hermione, who was shaking with her own.

"How dare you, Ronald. How freaking _dare_ you try to force me into the next part of our relationship! When I'm ready, I'll decide when to take the next step. As for now, I'm not ready yet. Both parties need to be willing and consent to give something so precious to each other." she tried to clarify.

"You're so scared of intercourse! Why can't you just listen to m-"

"Ron, you're such a tyrant! Stop trying to control every part of my life!" Hermione exploded, glaring at him with the force of a thousand daggers. If looks could kill, Ron would probably be stuck against the wall with large butcher knifes, hanging by them, his lifeless body strung with thin, deep cuts. Alas, but looks _can't_ kill. How good that was for dear Ronald.

"I'm not even giving my virginity to you!"

Hermione gasped, and Ron's hand immediately flew over his mouth, regretting his last eight words. Her expression was first one of shock, which quickly morphed to anger, then contorted into rage.

"It's over, Ron." she spat out scathingly. Her expressions became emotionless, and she turned around on her heel, fleeing out of the Common Room to the girl's dorms.

.o0o.

"Are you alright?" a gentle, calm voice asked, resting a hand on Hermione's shoulder as she sniffled softly.

"I'm... I'll be alright." she assured Fred. He'd always been there for her. After every fight, every argument, every little achievement she made- he'd been there.

He looked down at her with sympathetic eyes and slid down the wall to throw an arm around her shoulder to sit next to her.

She smiled through her tears. "Thank you."


	50. Drabble Fifty: Sadness

**A/N: Ack, sad prompts.**

 **Word Count: 179**

 **Drabble Fifty: Sadness**

It surrounded her. That icky word that everyone tip-toed around as if it was broken shards of glass. It enveloped her like an avalanche, burying her beneath the tense atmosphere of fear. Of course, no one seemed to notice it but her. Either that, or they ignored it, and pretended everything was alright. But it wasn't alright. Everywhere she looked, it had touched something, affected someone, or was instilled in some everyday object. Everyone tended to try and relieve the pain. It never worked.

Sadness was everywhere. There was no getting rid of it, as it was just... _there_. It hung around, lurking in dark corners, just waiting to latch on to it's next victim. Hermione hated it. It had surrounded her soul, and she was desperate to get rid of it. But for every victim of this disease, there is always a cause, and if you're lucky, a cure. In Hermione's case, there was one person who had caused all this sadness by departing from this world and into the next: Fred Weasley.


	51. Drabble Fifty-One: Reflection

**A/N: This may have been more depressing, but I didn't go down that road, thankfully. More depressing than I'd usually write though.**

 **Word Count: 465**

 **Drabble Fifty-One: Reflection**

Fred stood in front of the steel bathroom mirror, staring at the person who stared back at him with hollow eyes. His usually neat, buttoned shirt was undone, hanging loosely at his sides. His used-to-be vibrant red hair was now a dull, almost brown color. His reflection seemed to taunt him. It displayed his scars, showing them to the world. The reflection in the mirror wasn't someone he was used to seeing, but Fred knew that was actually what he looked like, rather than some sort of trick mirror that George had set up.

That wall had crushed his upper half, which had healed alright after many nights of operation and surgery. Thin, white scars decorated his chest, accompanying the many black and red ones that were slashed there. It hurt to look at them, to know that he wasn't the best that he could be. The best he could give to Hermione.

He believed that he didn't deserve her. The heroine of the Wizarding World, the kind of woman that little girls looked up to, a strong individual with morals and a kind heart. How could he even stand next to that? All his reflection did was remind him of the scars that he wore underneath the guise of happiness.

Ever since Fred was a little boy, he hated pain. He hated seeing others in pain, suffer from sadness, or react out of mass anger. When he was six years old, he vowed to do his best to bring happiness to the world and make sure that everyone was smiling. Joking seemed to be a good way to hide the pain, especially from his brother, who knew him better than anyone else.

But Fred's reflection reminded him that _he_ , in fact, brought pain to others because of the way he looked, the way he acted now.

Hermione hated it whenever he did this to himself. He was just reliving and reliving his faults, picking at them like bruises and scars. They'd never heal if he kept thinking about it. She loathed the fact that he thought he wasn't good enough for her. In the start of there relationship, Hermione thought that _she_ wasn't good enough for _him_! He always kept saying how he was damaged and unstable. How he couldn't be who he wanted himself to be, for _her_.

"Nobody wants a broken product", he had said wistfully one day, smiling sadly at her. Hermione had argued with him enormously that day.

"You're not broken." she'd tried to convince him, but he wouldn't hear any of it.

What pained Hermione the most was to know that his reflection caused his self-doubt, hated how he looked, hated himself. It broke her.


	52. Drabble Fifty-Two: Shadow

**A/N: Cliché af, but you know.**

 **Word Count: 290**

 **Drabble Fifty-Two: Shadow**

The shadows covered her face as she crept along the walls, hiding in the depths of the wall's darkness, cast by sparse, glimmering torches that decorated the hallway. She was running a small errand: getting books and food. She slunk along the walls like a shadow, barely seen. Hermione slid her hand against the wall, feeling for the knob that she knew was there.

But it wasn't. Instead of the cold, hard metal that she expected there, it was a firm, squishy-type of material. She pushed against it experimentally, and a grunt emitted from it. Hermione gasped, backing up and almost tripping over her own feet. There was a person, also cloaked in shadows.

"Uh, sorry." she said bashfully, backing up.

"Oi, bookworm. Are you trying to grope me?"

"Oh, bloody-" she almost swore, recognizing the person's voice almost immediately.

Fred emerged from the shadows, grinning madly at her. "Hey, princess."

She glared at the use of the nickname, but her face softened after realizing that he came to visit her in Hogwarts. "How did you sneak in?"

"I have my ways, love."

Hermione smiled at him, secretly liking that he had taken the time to make his way into Hogwarts to visit her in her sixth year. She was a bit lonely without his company during late night study sessions, but she was doing alright.

"How've you been holding up?" he asked, reaching for her hand and gently clasping it with his.

"Well enough, I guess." she said, her insides getting warm and fuzzy from the small gesture.

"Aw, do you not miss me?" he teased, ruffling her curls affectionately.

"I hate you." Hermione deadpanned.

"I love you, too." he smiled cheekily at her.


	53. Drabble Fifty-Three: Messy

**A/N: No continuation.**

 **Word Count: 160**

 **Drabble Fifty-Three: Messy**

He wouldn't say his room was messy. Just neatly disorganized. Fred looked around his room, which he had to himself after George set up the other bedroom. The bed wasn't made nicely, but rather the covers were wrinkled and bunched up in some places; his desk had a stack of paperwork and half-finished blueprints; and a couple stray garments littered the room.

"Alright for a lad's room, I suppose." he muttered, only hoping that throughout the clutter he could find it. Fred slid his closet doors open, scanning the contents quickly. His eyes slowly fixated on the generic shoe box tucked away safely in the corner of a tall shelf.

At the moment, he was glad that his room was messy enough so that he couldn't maneuver it. After all, if he himself couldn't, there was no way _Hermione_ could. What was in that shoebox, one might ask?

A small, little, black velvet box.


	54. Drabble Fifty-Four: Spirit

**A/N: ArtermisIcePrincess: I'll try to update every day, but life gets in the way of being an author. :(**

 **Word Count: 164**

 **Drabble Fifty-Four: Spirit**

"Oh, c'mon, Mione! Show some house spirit!" Fred whined, trailing after her like a lovesick puppy. Well, he kind of _was_ a lovesick puppy. But he'd never admit it.

"You're a Gryffindor, after all." he tried to reason with her. Hermione rolled her eyes at his actions, honestly a bit annoyed and a little humored by his infatuation.

She turned to look at him, popping her gum satisfatorily. "I may be the Head of House for Gryffindor, but I refuse to dress in that get-up you're insinuating that we should wear."

"Oh, come off it, Professor." he teased her, draping his scarf around her neck and throwing an arm around her shoulders. She shook his arm off, scowling at him and crossing her arms.

"I'm not going to wear a lion head." Hermione protested.

Fred pouted, looking at her with big eyes.

"No. I will show my house's spirit by using a scarf. Now deal with it."


	55. Drabble Fifty-Five: Illusion

**A/N: Why do all these prompts make me write sad-ish things? :/**

 **Word Count: 185**

 **Drabble Fifty-Five: Illusion**

Hermione turned the corner, and there he was. He was waiting for her with his arms outwards and palms facing up, seeming expectant for a hug. That prankster heartthrob of a red-haired man. That amazing, wonderfully kind guy that liked to bring presents to her during the day. That generous, caring boy that would stay by her side during her nightmares.

She gasped, her hands flying up and her face full of happiness, and launched herself forward, arms outstretched. Expecting to feel the fabric of his flannel shirt and surround herself in the familiar scent of him. But then... he wasn't there. Just as soon as he appeared, he flashed out of existance, leaving her hanging and almost collapsing on the floor. Where she expected something solid, anything: there was nothing. Her body became racked with large, silent sobs, tears streaming down her oh-so-pale cheeks, the once rosy tint they carried now gone.

It was but an illusion, a figment of her imagination. Because nothing could bring Fred Weasley out of the past and into her arms. Because he was gone.


	56. Drabble Fifty-Six: Quidditch

**A/N: AGH STILL BEHIND SCHEDULE. Sorry. ^-^**

 **Word Count: 315**

 **Drabble Fifty-Six: Quidditch**

Quidditch. For every magical being, Quidditch is part of everyone's lives in one way or another. Whether it means actually playing the sport, being an avid fan, or just having to deal with their boy or girlfriend gabbing about it, most everyone knows what it is.

Of course, this doesn't mean it's a _good_ thing. For instance, Hermione didn't necessarily mind going to Quidditch games for the sake of her friends' sanity, but this was really just too much.

At the moment, Hermione was in a crowd of old graduated Hogwarts Quidditch players. Tonight was _Hogwarts Quidditch Alumni Reunion Night_ , and Hermione, having almost all her friends Quidditch players, was forced to go, even though she wasn't one herself.

Thank goodness for Luna, she had always thought when she wanted to get away from the Quidditch vibe.

Hermione slunk against the walls, carefully picking her way through the jumble of sweaty people. The reunion was held on the pitch, of course. There was quite a few pick-up games going on, one on the Hogwarts' field and others on the grounds, while the main party used the stands to chat and get up to date with old acquaintances.

She went to the far side of the elevated bleachers, finding the teacher's balcony where no one was at the moment. Hermione sighed wearily at the emptiness, relishing in the silence.

"Too many people?" a red-headed boy emerged from the shadows. Fred's eyes twinkled at her from underneath his shaggy locks of hair.

"Yeah. Too many Quidditch players." she chuckled lightly, welcoming his presence.

He pouted, holding back a smile. "Hey! I'll have you know, I was a Quidditch player myself."

"I know." she bopped him on the head, smiling slightly.

.o0o.

Hermione never knew that Quidditch was what brought her and her wonderful boyfriend together. Huh. Quidditch.


	57. Drabble Fifty-Seven: Villain

**A/N:** ***Yes, I know it's Roberts. Deal with it. xD**

 **Word Count: 266**

 **Drabble Fifty-Seven: Villain**

"You're a villain, sir." she said innocently, her hands tied behind her back with a bandanna, sitting on a bright blue plastic chair.

Fred grinned at her, his comical-looking eyepatch covering one of his mischief-filled eyes. "I know, princess. And I'm gonna keep you here forever!"

"No!" she protested, struggling against her fake bonds.

"Too bad." he teased her lightly, pulling out his colorful foam sword from his belt and brandishing It proudly. "You can never leave! I will keep you here in Neverland!"

The two kids were playing one of their favorite games: Pirates and Princesses. At the moment, it was just the two of them, but sometimes George, Ron, Ginny, or Charlie joined them. Hermione was adorned in a ridiculously pink dress-up gown with a layered skirt and a purple sash tied around her waist. She wore a cute purple cone-shaped hat that was held with an elastic strap.

Fred on the other hand, was wearing a handsome black outfit. Think Wesley in _The Princess Bride_. He looked somewhat like that, with the exception of headgear. He was wearing a loose, but nice looking, dress shirt, with cool-looking leather gloves covering his hands. Hand-me-down pants, presumably from either Bill or Charlie clung to his legs, a suave, black leather belt around his waist finishing the look.

Hermione pouted at his declaration, looking up at his figure with big eyes. "You're a meanie, Fred Weasley, Dread Pirate King*."

Fred smiled cheekily at her, tipping his black, felt tri-corn hat at her. "You know it."


	58. Drabble Fifty-Eight: Fire

**A/N: Felt like describing things, I guess.**

 **Word Count: 231**

 **Drabble Fifty-Eight: Fire**

Fred hobbled to the campsite, his arms bursting with firewood. He dropped them soundly on the ground next to the designated campfire area. Sighing, he ran his hands through his hair and took a seat on one of the logs.

"Hey." Hermione said, sliding in next to him.

"Hey, yourself." he replied, slipping an arm around her shoulder.

Hermione picked up a blanket and threw it over to cover the two of them. Fred, on the other hand, levitated some logs into the campfire and set it alight with a crisp " _I_ _ncendio_ ".

And so, the couple sat there, watching swathes of an array of colors display themselves across the setting sky. Streaks of orange, pink, yellow, purple, and red decorated the sky as if an artist had picked up a paintbrush and started carefully painting a masterpiece. The clouds occasionally peeked over the horizon, their coloring no longer a familiar white, but blended with the pallete of the sunset.

As the soft light of the setting sun turned to darkness, a blanket of stars covered the midnight blue sky, twinkling in the distance. The two had then turned their attentions up instead of west, both pointing at certain constellations and naming the stars for each other.

They did this often, sitting under the stars together, enjoying other's company and witty remarks with only a fire to light their way.


	59. Drabble Fifty-Nine: Victory

**A/N: Happy Leap Day!**

 **Word Count: 206**

 **Drabble Fifty-Nine: Victory**

"Yes!" Fred shouted gleefully, shaking his little fists happily and jumping up and down. He looked as if he was partying, skipping around while whooping occasionally. He was humming a three note victory song.

"Dun-dun duuunnnn!" he sang happily, skipping circles arounud his friend.

Hermione scoffed, rolling her eyes at his antics. "Stop your victory dance. You didn't even win by much!"

"Are you kidding me?" he exclaimed, looking at her incredulously. "I won by a _landslide_!"

"Nuh-uh." she replied stubbornly, exaggeratedly crossing her arms over her chest.

The red-head nodded his head vigorously, standing by his opinion. "Yeah-huh."

"Nuh-uh."

"Yeah-huh!"

"Nuh-uh!"

Fred frowned at her. "Just admit that I beat you in that race."

"Not on your life, Weasley."

.o0o.

"You did _not_ beat me in that race. We tied! Both of us crossed the line at the blueberry bush at the same time."

"You're still going on about that?"

Hermione's six year old self grinned at him. "Yup. No victories for you." She stuck her tongue out at him teasingly.

"Oh, snap. You did not just say that." Fred mocked her sassily, snapping his fingers in a "Z" pattern.

"Oh, yes. Yes, I did."


	60. Drabble Sixty: Puzzle

**A/N: *puzzle cube at goo [period] gl** [ **slash]VPkXZl**

 **Also, THIS GOT ADDED TO A COMMUNITY AND NO ONE TOLD ME! AHHHH. Achievement unlocked.**

 **Word Count: 455**

 **Drabble Sixty: Puzzle**

Hermione woke up to the sunlight colorfully streaming through her stained glass window, cuddled in her warm blankets. She yawned, stretching her arms above her. Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, Hermione realized what today was. It was her and Fred's first anniversary of being a couple. Even though he couldn't be there, they'd video chat almost the entire day today, ending with him trying to come visit her from America. His schedule was full almost 24/7, but it was easier for him to stay there instead of Apparate back and forth every day.

She smiled in excitement of tonight, looking around her bedroom. Everything seemed in place... except she spotted a small envelope sitting on her desk. Trodding over to her desk, she was stopped momentarily by Crookshanks rubbing affectionately against her leg.

"Aw, thanks Crookie." she cooed, reaching down to pet the Kneazle's head. Reaching for the envelope, she recognized Fred's messy, but scripted writing.

 _Happy Anniversary, love! I have a present for you, but you have to solve a puzzle first. Have fun!_

Next to the envelope lay some sort of puzzle cube.* The cube itself was made of glass, with only a small hole on the side. In the middle was a plastic track, a maze to get through while a glass ball with a parchment inside sat on the other side. To get to the parchment, Hermione would have to somehow maneuver the ball through the three dimensional maze to the other side and open it to see what the parchment read.

 _ **ONE HOUR LATER...**_

"And..." Hermione strained, tilting the puzzle cube one final time.

"Done!" she cheered, watching as the glass ball pop out and land softly on her hand. Allowing herself a moment of achievement, she partied internally before returning her attention to the parchment. Cracking open the ball, she unfurled the parchment carefully.

 _Good job, love! I knew my girl could do it. :) Anyway, you've earned your present. In fact, it's been outside your window the entire time._

Hermione was confused momentarily, blinking, then whipped around to look out her balcony.

And there, in his wonderful glorious form, was one red-haired, prankster, Fred Weasley. She shrieked, jumping up from her bed and racing toward the double French doors and throwing them open. Hermione shot forward to throw her arms around him. Just before she impacted on him, Fred scooped her up and fell backwards onto a previously situated bed of feather-soft pillows.

"I thought you couldn't make it." she whispered breathlessly into his chest.

Fred smiled into her hair, enjoying having her in his arms after a long month of separation. "I made some arrangements."


	61. Drabble Sixty-One: Dawn

**A/N: Happy birthday, Ron Weasley! (March 1st)**

 **Guys. I've done two months of drabbles. I'M DAMN PROUD OF MYSELF!**

 **Word Count: 213**

 **Drabble Sixty-One: Dawn**

Dawn. What exactly is dawn? It's the reawakening of the sun, being birthed into the sky, peeking over the horizons and slowly showering it's rays onto the sleepy earth. Usually associated with new beginnings, beauty, and happiness. Birds chirping and early risers are awake, although the reader knows some humans love their sleep. As the sun yawns, moving lazily to overtake the afternoon sky later in the day, it begins with dawn. Sunrise.

Unfortunately for one couple, daylight was doomsday in their eyes. The wonderful yellow sun now carried despair in their hearts. Neither wished to rise early, though if they did not, then they surely would have been caught. Alas, turmoil appeared in the hidden relationship of Draco and Hermione.

For dawn signified that he must leave for Death Eater duties, where he must fight against the side of his lover. It signified that Hermione must stand bravely against her beloved in the fight for her life that she had been fighting since she was eleven. For today, the soon-named Battle of Hogwarts was to take place. Oh, the peril the two faced. The only thing that overshadowed the cons of their current situation was the love they had for one another that they knew would pull them through.


	62. Drabble Sixty-Two: Obsessive

**A/N: I think the community is Hermione/multi**

 **Word Count: 236**

 **Drabble Sixty-Two: Obsessive**

A little know fact about Draco was that he loved his chocolate. Oh, yes. It didn't matter what kind of chocolate it was, as long as it was good. Dark chocolate, white chocolate, milk chocolate; if one could name it, then one would know he liked it. The blonde had a fondness for exactly 72% cacao dark chocolate. No more, no less. Of course, he'd still eat it, even if it was _milk_ chocolate. But he preferred it 72% cacao.

Chocolate had always been a delicacy for him since he was young, and his mother often made him cookies baked with the sweet and bought endless amounts of the stuff in form of bars, pastries, and cookies.

One could say it was an obsession.

Now, fast forward to when little six year old Draco with a craving for chocolate grows to be handsome twenty one year old Draco that had an obsession with chocolate. And a girlfriend. Now this particular girlfriend was the one and only Hermione Granger, who _also_ happened to have some sort of obsession with chocolate, except to a lesser extent.

Of course, the two would end up buying mass amounts of chocolate to share together in their flat, sampling different styles from all over the world.

Because chocolate was obsessive, and what better way to worship that obsession by having a partner who loved it as much as they did?


	63. Drabble Sixty-Three: Eternal

**A/N: I accidentally deleted this chapter and had to rewrite it. It's now about 100 words shorter. Sorry.**

 **Word Count: 205**

 **Drabble Sixty-Three: Eternal**

"Summer isn't eternal, you know?" she asked sadly, snuggling just a bit deeper into his warm arms.

He rubbed small circles on her shoulders comfortingly. "Yeah."

"Then we have to go back to acting as if we hate each other."

"I know, princess. I know."

Hermione lay in his arms, her body tucked into his side. Draco's shoulders were propped up by his black bed pillows, lying neatly on his silk sheets. They fit together like puzzle pieces, only meant for each other.

In the summer of before sixth year, the couple were extremely worried. Draco had been alerted about his involvement and tasks for the uprising Dark Lord, which were troubling by itself. What worried them the most was _them_. As a couple, if anyone found out or blew their cover, Draco could be severely punished. And Hermione... she'd be dead as soon as the news struck Lucius' ears.

Instead of breaking it off, the couple decided to stick it out, thick and thin, since neither wanted to end their hidden three year relationship.

Although summer may not be eternal, where their relationship could be kept out it the open and they could act as a normal couple, their love was.


	64. Drabble Sixty-Four: Blood

**A/N: I didn't really know what to do with this prompt...**

 **Word Count: 235**

 **Drabble Sixty-Four: Blood**

Blood. It splattered the walls, painting the usually whitewashed rooms of the house. Gallons and buckets of it decorated the walls, made in such intricate patterns that only a murderer could make out of some sort of twisted glee. The deep maroon color was richly fresh, almost as if the event had just taken place. Oh, but it had.

Malfoy stepped onto the scene, exploring the Muggle's house, and seeing the haunting, striking similarities to her own home back in London.

The crime scene was horrifying.

"Another attack." she whispered dejectedly, searching the house.

Her partner fell into step behind her, sweeping the room with the same accuracy of her, only with different eyes.

"Hermione." his voice broke her concentration.

"Draco?" she spun on her heel, searching his eyes carefully.

His eyes were filled with hatred, panic, and something else she couldn't read. Which was a bit strange, since they had been working together as detectives for the past seven years.

Both had joined the detective buisness right out of Hogwarts, as both had found the field work fascinating and had challenging forensic work. Neither knew at the time that they'd fall in love; but no one does. After all, you can't choose who you love. Or how you fell in love with them. Besides, who falls in love over a murder case? One might suppose Hermione and Draco Malfoy might.


	65. Drabble Sixty-Five: Candy

**A/N: on a whim on a whim am I back?**

 **Word Count: 249**

 **Drabble Sixty-Five: Candy**

An owl flew into Hermione's room, where Draco and herself were enjoying a night in. They had been reading, researching material for a collaborative potions project which required strange ingredients.

Draco looked up from his book. "What's in the package?"

The owl dropped a small, rectangular box in Hermione's lap and nuzzled her hand affectionately before leaving with a flurry of feathers.

"Candy!" Hermione exclaimed, tearing open the light packaging to reveal a small bag of Jolly Ranchers.

"What are those?" Draco asked curiously. "I've never seen those before."

She smiled. "They're hard candy called Jolly Ranchers. You suck on them. Full of sugar and incredibly unhealthy, but they're my favorite sweet, right after Sugar Quills." She twisted open a red candy and easily popped it into her mouth.

"Do I get one?"

"Nop-" was her muffled reply.

"Looks like I'll just have to take it from you," he smirked, a devilish grin overtaking his features.

Hermione quickly snatched the bag and clutched it tightly to her chest. "Never."

He lunged for her, causing Hermione to squeal and lean back into the couch in an attempt to get away. Draco was positioned predatorily, nearly on top of her. Hermione looked up at him with wide doe eyes as Draco's Cheshire grin widened.

"Mmpfh!" Draco leaned in, kissing Hermione passionately.

She tasted like strawberries. When he pulled away, both were smiling.

It took Hermione a full fifteen seconds to realize her candy was suddenly missing from her mouth.

 _Pop!_

"Hey!"


	66. Drabble Sixty-Six: Tongue-Tied

**A/N: pls don't expect regular updates**

 **Word Count: 207**

 **Drabble Sixty-Six: Tongue-Tied**

"Her-MI-one!" two voices chimed mischievously in unison. The brunette in question held in a sigh. Attention from the infamous Weasley twins was never a good sign.

"So!"

"Hermione!"

"Bookworm extraordinaire-"

"Wonderful-"

"Kind-"

"Person of interest-"

"We, the esteemed twins of the Weasley house,"

"Intend to ask a favor most important of you."

"Would you be willing-"

"-to product test?"

"It'd keep the ickle firsties from being used as test subjects-"

"-really it's for the greater good."

"...fine."

~o0o~

"Anyways, you just need to eat one of these candies. They come in pairs. Have fun!"

The pair waltzed out of Hermione and Draco's dorm, tipping invisible hats.

Hermione looked to Draco. He returned her confused glance and they mirrored each other, shrugging, before simultaneously popping the pink candy into their mouths.

She felt a strange sensation filling her mouth. It seemed her tongue was… elongating? Hermione suddenly jerked forward by an invisible force, Draco seemed likewise confused. Their faces connected in a fumbling crash. Against their wills, each mouth opened and their tongues twisted around each other in a tight loop, securing to each other.

Hermione's eyes blazed.

Draco rose an eyebrow at the scene in front of him.

Bloody Weasley twins.


	67. Drabble Sixty-Seven: Butterflies

**A/N: everything is ooc hahahhah sorry guys**

 **Word Count: 156**

 **Drabble Sixty-Seven: Butterflies**

Hah.

How prissy. A Malfoy, feeling wimpy little theoretical moths in his stomach for a girl. Malfoys do not feel nervous. Malfoys do not get butterflies when a pretty girl passes in the corridors.

And yet, whenever she walks by, his heart beats a little faster, his breathing grows more rapid, and all he can summon to say to her is filthy degrading words - a habit ingrained to his very core by his childhood and his father.

And yet, whenever she gives him a smile, his heart skips a beat and the butterflies resume their nuanced fluttering within his gut while he scowls at her and turns away.

And yet, whenever he spots that bushy mass of fiery brown hair, his spirits life a little and he has a little more spring in his step despite his lack of conversational ability.

Damn those butterflies. Malfoys do not fawn over girls. Malfoys do not get butterflies.


	68. Drabble Sixty-Eight: Quitting

**A/N: EVERYTHING IS OOC**

 **Word Count: 165**

 **Drabble Sixty-Eight: Quitting**

"That's it! I'm done," Draco roared, surging up from the couch in fury.

"Draco, wait!" Hermione cried, getting up from the couch and running after him.

He turned to her, his eyes blazing with rage. "No. I'm bloody done with your games. I can never tell when you're joking or not. This is the final straw, Hermione. I quit. I can't do this anymore. We're done."

"Draco..." she started, reaching gently for his arm in attempt to calm her boyfriend. "I didn't mean to hurt you, I swear! I'd never do it purposefully."

"No. That was deliberate. You pushed me off a goddamn cliff!"

There was a long silence, an awkward air hung between them.

Hermione recovered first. "...I love you?"

Draco sighed, running a hand through his ever messy white-blond hair. "...Hermione, I love you too, but seriously? Did you have to push me off the track?"

"Draco, it's only Mario Kart."

"...shut up."


	69. Drabble Sixty-Nine: Forget

**A/N: idk I'm kind of stressed and depressed so here's something different**

 **Word Count: 245**

 **Drabble Sixty-Nine: Forget**

And I'm falling, falling, falling - when does it end... will it ever end? He makes me fall - he _made_ me fall. And I'm still free falling into the abyss that is him. I'm falling hard and fast and I can't stop and why can't I stop - what did I do? What did I do to fate that caused me to collide with him? Someone like him... he's so much more than he gives himself credit for. He's brave and kind, and he's my only light in this barren wasteland. My threshold when my best friends have abandoned me. They aren't here for me when I needed them the most. Ron and Harry have busy lives as Aurors. They have no time to take care of their ex-friend with post traumatic stress disorder. I can't sleep at night. The war memories are too strong. Every night, I wake screaming in horror from the trauma. It wasn't supposed to be this bad. I thought I could handle it. Everything came crashing down. I see them, in my dreams. I relive my memories and the torture - the deaths of everyone I've ever looked up to or respected, or even shared comraderie with.

He lets me forget. Forget my insecurities, forget my past, forget that existing is painful... and maybe that's why falling for him isn't so bad. It's for him, after all.


	70. Drabble Seventy: Moonlight

**A/N: naz, thank you. (Guest reviews don't let me reply ;-; pls login)**

 **Word Count: 159**

 **Drabble Seventy: Moonlight**

"Granger, I'm going to take you out on a date."

The brunette in question's head shot up from her book, of which she had previously been engrossed in. "Why?"

The Head Girl and the Head Boy rarely talked, despite sharing quarters, with the exception of discussing school events and Head duties.

"Because."

"Thank you, Malfoy, that's a very clear and specific answer that completely answers my question," Hermione remarked, rolling her eyes.

Draco huffed from across the room. "Be ready at 9."

…

"A moonlight picnic?" Hermione questioned. "How… cliche."

Hermione had appeared from her room precisely at nine o'clock, dressed in comfortable white jeans and a soft maroon jumper. Draco had been waiting outside, offered and arm to her, and whisked her away.

Currently, they were sitting in the Astronomy tower, only lit by the natural moonlight streaming in from the various breaks in the walls.

Draco grumbled. "Shut up, Granger."

The two ended up talking till dawn.


	71. Drabble Seventy-One: Monster

**A/N: Slytherpuff, I gotchu**

 **Word Count: 126**

 **Drabble Seventy-One: Monster**

"Potter... leave." Draco choked out, barely managing to keep his voice even. He was hunched over in his favorite armchair, back to the intruder in his dorm.

Harry froze in his tracks, pausing his intended movement towards Draco. "Draco... I can't do that." He forcefully turned the chair around so Draco was facing him.

"Draco, look at me."

Malfoy shook his head, burying his head into his hands, slightly rocking himself back and forth. "I'm a monster, Harry. I'm a monster."

Harry's eyes softened. "Draco, you're no monster. You're a victim of circumstance. Whatever your father did, it doesn't matter because you aren't him. You're Draco bloody Malfoy." Harry kneeled down in front of the cushiony chair, reaching for Draco's hands. "You're no monster. I promise."


	72. Drabble Seventy-Two: Dust

**A/N: agh guess I'm writing more Drarry; ed ur gay lol**

 **Word Count: 182**

 **Drabble Seventy-Two: Dust**

" _Ach_ _oo!_ "

Harry wiped his nose with his sleeve, then resumed sweeping the floor of their new apartment.

A grumble sounded from across the room. "Remind me again why we couldn't just use, oh, I don't know, _magic_? Maybe because, we're _wizards_?"

Harry sighed. "Draco, it's tradition."

His partner scoffed, overdramatically tossing his hair out of his face, continuing to clean away the dust. "Tradition for muggles, you mean. Wizards shouldn't have to work their arses off to chase dust bunnies."

"Oh, shut up."

Suddenly, a loud _thump_ was heard. Draco tackled Harry to the ground, the raven-haired man yelping uncharacteristically. The blond had him pinned to the cleanly swept wood. Draco grinned devilishly down at him.

"Gotcha."

"Bloody hell, you scared me," Harry shook his head, chuckling in amusement.

"Kind of the point, Harry."

Draco suddenly sneezed.

Harry burst into laughter. "Oh, how the vicious dust bunnies have claimed another unsuspecting victim. The once great Draco Lucius Malfoy has been conquered by a mere allergy. Oh, woe is him. How the mighty fall."

"Shut up."


	73. Drabble Seventy-Three: Owl

**A/N: hey. uh. hi?**

 **Word Count: 445**

 **Drabble Seventy-Three: Owl**

Draco's hand slowly inched across the gap. Closer... closer.. he was a hairsbreadth away from the target. And..

"Ow!" he yelped, yanking his hand back from the hostile owl.

"Bloody... buggering... fucking owl," he grumbled, marveling at the newly opened wounds. He Scroungified the wounds yet again and sighed deeply. For the past week and a half, since moving into their shared flat, Draco had been trying to make peace with Harry's owl. Unfortunately for him, the bird in question was uncooperative and would not hesitate to bite, claw and tear his way through the blond's skin when attempting to even go near her.

Draco heard a soft chuckle coming from the doorway as he tucked his wand away. He turned to find Harry casually leaning against the door frame dressed in only a t-shirt and boxers.

"Trying to convince Snuffles to love you?"

He grumbled in response.

Harry briefly recalled when he had first taken the small owl home.

...

A soft, but distinguishable rapping came at the door.

Harry groaned, rolling over in his bed and wrapping the sheets tighter around him. The insistency of the knocks grew louder, until he heard the undeniable voice of one Hermione Granger.

"Harry James Potter, you will open this door right now, or I will open it for you."

He lept out of bed, nearly tripping as the blankets were pulled with him while he clambered towards the door. He somehow made it to the door in an amazing feat of competency, opening it to see a worried Hermione who was cradling a small blue bundle.

"Um... this is a little sudden, but I found this little guy outside my house with a broken wing and heavy signs of malnutrition. I nursed her back to health - I had to! But... I don't exactly have a need for her because Crookshanks is already a handful, although she is such a sweet bird, and I know you don't have a familiar after Hedwig...?" she chuckled. "Oh dear, I'm rambling, aren't I?"

Harry just smiled.

"What I really wanted to ask is if you'd like to take care of her? She's yours if you want her."

Harry inspected the small, vulnerable looking bundle. He gestured for Hermione to give it to him. She grinned. "Her name is Snuffles.

...

Snuffles was a small, vocal tawny owl, with a passionate habit of attempting to maul anyone that wasn't Harry or Hermione.

Harry called out to her, "Snuffles!"

She hooted quietly in response.

"Make nice with Drakey-poo."

Draco glared at him.

Snuffles cocked her head at him.

"Stupid bloody owl."

 _SCREEEECH!_


End file.
